My Big Fat Greek Riding
The saga that is my sister's car accident and subsequent new-car shopping seems to at long last be over.
To shorten the veeery loooong story of touring Northern Indiana car dealerships in single-digit weather, allow me to simply say that she got right up to the point of signing for a new car when the finance guy intervened. Since Miss Bee was paying with credit union loan, the dealership saw its fat nut of interest disappear and wasn't willing to meet her price. Seeing as she was there with Dad (the tough law guy); Tom and Chad (the Queer Eyes for The Straight Girl Who Goes Car Shopping) and Dave (Captain Argument), she had all the forces of intimidation at hand. Just goes to show you...never send the rest of the lot to do the Katherinian Business. As they were all trying to cure their nasal frostbite, I looked up the car she wanted on Carmax.com.
There it was, with $2500 knocked off the dealer's price, and $502 less than the price she was trying to get the dealer to give her. It was used---with a grand total of 680 miles on it. Hello! Someone else ate the initial depreciation! Miss Bee paid a $150 transfer fee to bring the car from NC, which was then applied to the total price. Last night she and The Clan drove to Indianapolis to pick up the new baby. I lived vicariously through the magic of cellphones, but insisted she name it. All things in my world--animate and inanimate--have names. Cars must be named with the letters A-Z in the order of purchase. (Your first car is an "A" name, etc.) I'm forcing my poor younger sister to adhere to my odd personal culture. How nice for her.
The car's official name is Athena. In my sister's words, it is because the car is beautiful, blue like the Greek flag and she likes the name "Athena." I of course insisted that it also because she made a wise purchase and the actual car sprang fully-formed from my head. And I'm kinda like Zeus. Except I'm not a god and I've never turned into a bird to rape some poor girl.
It just now occurs to me to feel sorry for my family members.
posted by Kat Coble @ 3:19 AM
13 comments
13 Comments:
You're not quite accurate. Dave was not with us on the car shopping trip. Chad and I have extensive car shopping experience, having bought Chad a car last year and my car in 2003.
I did a lot of Internet research as well, but I had discounted carmax because they weren't local. I'll never do that again. I think that when I go to get rid of my Toyota when the lease is up in 2.5 more years, I might just take a drive to Indy rather than deal with the pain in the a-- dealers here in Fort Wayne. Carmax is as the kids say "da bomb."
I love that idea for naming your cars - A-Z. My first car was named Smoky ; it was a diesel volvo. I carried a six-pack of oil in the trunk at all times because I had to put a quart in at least every other day; But - according to my dad - "a mac truck could hit you and you'd be fine"; good ol' volvos;
I also love carmax. We're thinking of selling my explorer to them next year.
~ Lacy
Hmm, A-Z is a good system. We've been trying to come up with names for our car and nothing is sticking. But does it count as an A or B, if it is my second car and my husband's first?
Good buy. But just a heads up for anybody else who may buy online: remember there are a lot of used cars on the market that may be from New Orleans.
And Katherine, I wouldn't consider you a god necessarily, but a lost daughter of Mnemosyne. You'd be a tenth Muse, and your name would be Kathyrino, Muse of blogging.
I thought Dave was on the shopping trip. I must have gotten the wrong impression from a subsequent conversation with Sissy about Ann's reaction.
Personally, if I were car shopping w/o Tim, I'd want you and Chad in my corner, simply because you ARE the experts.
Mel--You could always call it "Abbie", that way they're both covered.
Fortunately Tim & I didn't have to start over. My first car was "Aggie". His was "Annie"--a Grateful Dead reference. But it fit nicely with my system. So, the first car we got together was "Bertha"
Followed by:
Chloe
Desdemona
E. Robert (long story)
Frobert (longer story)
Grover (The current Blazer)
We are insane. And drive a lot of junkers, apparently.
Good buy. But just a heads up for anybody else who may buy online: remember there are a lot of used cars on the market that may be from New Orleans.
Carmax is indeed da bomb. They certify that none of their cars have flood damage, have ever been in an accident or had any kind of frame damage whatsoever.
Every car my family, friends, or fiance has bought from Carmax has been great with one exception: don't trust their shop when they say the car has been totally tuned. A pal that used to work there even said to go elsewhere after you get the car to have it tuned up. For us it's been little things like fluid levels, but if you think they're full and they're not, there could be long run damage.
All of my cars are now named after Beatles songs. My first two were named otherwise (Beulah & Ovaltine) until I got on a roll with the Fab 4 names. My truck was Prudence, and my car now is Lizzy. I hate the song Dizzy Miss Lizzy, but something told me this was the name the car had to have. Who am I to argue with the universe?
Good job, Katherine. You get to be my honorary librarian of the week, for clever and money-saving use of the internet. :)
Personally, all my cars have names that start with "R," because my own name does. So far I've had a Ruby and a Ruth.
So when you get to the end of the alphabet will you start with "A" again or move on to Greek letters?
I'm not mad, Kath, just concerned about posterity. People seem to fact-checking from the Jayson Blair handbook like dad who wrote in the Christmas letter that I'm now a Senior in college. I still need over 30 credits, so I'm very much a Junior, as have I been the past 4 years.
I don't remember all my car names, but my car before the Rav4 was Dixie. She was a sweet 1998 Grand Am LE coupe. Her prior owner was from Georgia, so that's why she's Dixie. I was in a head-on collision on the Interstate in winter and she never drove the same, but I kept her two more years until I just couldn't stand it anymore.
Technically the Rav should have a name, but I chose not since I'm actually leasing. I really like the name Rav, like Ravi Shankar or something.
It's so forceful like "RAV" is something you do. It should be a verb like "TiVo Tivoed and have Tivoed."
I Rav my car to the store. Want to go for a Rav? Will you Rav me to work tomorrow since my crappy Pontiac is in the shop?
Wow, these are all good car naming options (love the Beatles theme). We've been trying to call our car Professor McGonagall (to try for a Harry Potter theme) but it just isn't working out. Abbie is good, we'll have to try it out.
Got Pope, Need No Bart charliepatseas@yahoo.com Flushing NY
The Holy Father gone to Turkey to redeem and consecrate the Greeks,
so don't need no more soviet temples. Don't need no gyro blimpie Bart
when got a regular Pope without the diner attitude. My pop kept
hitting momma with a skillet on the head. Friends ended up in the
hospital after their pop beat them. Pops got drunk and ruined my
first car. Killed two cats and a dog, thrown out the window.
Neighbor drowned the canaries in ouzo, lit, ate them. Ma overdid
whip so she could give less pie. All our stuff came pilfered, with
logos. Greeks overcook all meat so no one knows is bad. Another
banned tenants flushing toilet paper. Waiters inpune sanitation
because "dirty is natural and healthy." Priests just answered "behave,
respect, tradition!" Now priest comes "no intercommunion!" Where was
he when we needed him to protect us from our crazy parents? Don't
sell me "educated Greeks" because we know all them Trojan Horse
cheated on the exams. Besides it's just TV repair school. Remember
all those jailed old disco Greeks, tax cheats to "protest" Jerome Ford
stopping the Trojan Horse in Chyprious? We can't get good jobs
because no one trusts Greeks, because of Trojan Horse. They always
faked reading Greek. That's why we borrowed regular Catholic books
instead of read Greek. Sure, we sacrifice to Greek myths three times
a year to please yiayia, and she's nun the wiser when we go to regular
Catholic Mass on Sundays when she bummed from bouzaki dances. Ain't
need no more Bart, just the regular Pope. That's why we all married
regular Catholic when we grew up. So they can trust us.
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