We are now a two green economy hatch-back family. I think that's kinda funny. Spent the great part of the afternoon car shopping with UPB and Shaft and found a good deal on a pimped-out (well, to me anyway... of course, my car doesn't have a/c so keep that in mind) 2000 Ford Focus. Kind of a lot of miles, but I'm sure we'll get many more out of her. Or him. The car does not, as yet, have a name. Nor does mine, come to think of it. If mine were reddish purple I'd name him Telly, like the monster on Sesame Street. I might anyway, due to the plates, and the fact that despite being mostly harmless I've never really liked either of them. Hmm... that might work. Though I suppose I should be nicer to my car... it still goes, despite the horrible neglect that it has suffered at my hands. Sometimes I think it must be out of spite. Telly has bought into the whole ironocracy thing and has taken it to a whole new level. "I will continue to run, without oil, without the desperately needed wheel alignment, without a terribly overdue timing belt, simply because you want a different car and I know it won't happen as long as I'm alive. Mwahahahaha!" I'm telling you, Telly is evil. To be fair, every so often I drive a different car, and usually end up liking Telly more for it. Red-headed stepchild of the auto world, that's my car.
Anyway... the finance guy at the dealership gave me hives. And I haven't eaten (except for a McDonald's shake... does that count?) since lunch. And I'm ti-erd. And we went to one dealership in town, in my car, and when UPB said he was looking for a four-door the sales guy said, "Oh, you're tired of getting out of the clown car? heh heh." Um... no sale for you, dummo. Step one to being an ok sales person: don't insult a prospective customer. That's not even going for good sales person, that's just ok. You fail that one, you suck. Now, Anthony also chided me for my current car, but somehow it was ok for him. But then, I think he understood that the only reason I wasn't already driving a Mini is the $$, or, rather, the $$,$$$, so it wasn't as much a judgement of my taste or personality as a chummy sympathetic joke.
Ok - milk is here. Time for dinner. Then, the sleeping.