Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Fallen Trees and The Vehicularly Challenged
So let's recap.
Last we heard from our Heroin (me, for all intensive purposes) I had been ravaged by fire (ok slight exaggeration) and rescued by my love. I had gone from the depths of vehicular despair to the hopeful promise of a light on the horizon.
As I sat Tuesday in the chair of the car dealership, being late now and banks being closed, we had to take our hopefulness and mosey on back down the road south, headed for home.
The promise of a call the next day with assurances of ease and convenience, we left. Still uplifted and positive that I, yes I, the vehicularly challenged would soon be given the keys to a shiny new car. The first new car I had ever been introduced to.
Naturally, we went to Hooters for dinner, because serious discussions call for serious atmosphere.
Burgers digesting and conversation semi shouted above the hustle and bustle of the scantily clad wait staff and the boisterous and drooling sports watching clientele, we discussed the situation.
On the road again, we were optimistic of what the next day would bring.
The week had gone on and on with calls back and forth. Haggling with banks and salesmen to get a reasonable cost and an affordable monthly payment.
This wasn't a wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am kind of ordeal. No instant YES, but no outright no either. This, my friends, was Limbo. A sort of car-themed purgatory.
So as the days wore on, I was forced to be picked up and driven to work by a fellow employee who thankfully lived somewhat near the Boy, whose house I had been essentially stranded at the majority of the week.
The wheeling and dealing and process of the whole new car thing had been ongoing through the week. Random updates that weren't really updates at all were made. "We're trying to get you the best deal possible", "we're waiting for a call back from the bank" blah blah blah.
My patience and anxiety levels were wearing thinner by the hour. Stomach in knots for days on end, just wanting a resolution. Wanting to know for sure, one way or the other if this was actually possible, or some string-a-long tactic meant to test me somehow.
Friday night, I finally got a ride from work to my own home. I hadn't been there since Monday and had been tiring of interchanging parts to the same 2 outfits at work all week.
As I bade farewell to my coworker and turned the key in my front door, I was greeted by my Christmas tree on the ground and a bevy of shattered glass ornaments.
I burst into tears.
The stress of the whole car thing paired with the sight of sentimental, irreplaceable ornaments in millions of pieces all over my living room was enough to send me right over the edge.
I called the Boy, completely defeated.
He gave me the usual assurances, that things could be worse, "It's only glass", etc. “Time to make new memories.”, "They were only objects.” All things that should have been comforting, but piled onto the anxiety I had been harboring all week fell on deaf ears.
My brother begrudgingly brought my son over to see me, as with the hellish week I hadn't seen him at all. He also came wielding a replacement stand for the tipped tree.
We struggled and squirmed with the tree, but got it sort of in the upright position. Crooked and harried now by the tumble it took. Ornaments and garland disheveled and tilting to one side. My once beautiful tree, verging on Charlie Brown status.
The next morning, I spent my time helping to honor fallen soldiers with Wreaths Across America. Wandering in wintery cemeteries to place wreaths on the graves of those who served in every war from the Revolution to now in my home town.
If Karma was out to get me, it certainly wasn't from this life, but perhaps in another I was a real son of a bitch.
So the Boy picked me up after my charitable morning, as he had taken Dylan to his skating lesson and then we headed to Wal-Mart to get yet another tree stand, since again my tree was on the verge of falling over.
Another day of struggling and straining to get the tree in the upright position, the kids playing somewhat nicely outside, we passed out from sheer exhaustion. For him physical, for me, mental.
We awoke with a start to look at the clock, and realized I was to be to my waitressing gig in 20 minutes. I hustled around the house, throwing on make-up and taming my hair from the winter hat I had adorned all morning, threw on my uniform, my arms still covered in bed scars from sleeping with a sweater on. My arms now looked cable knit.
So I spent the night slinging drinks and being jovial, hoping to make a few bucks.
And then we arrive at Monday. Picked up by my brother and driven to work, I sit and again wait for the call from the Dealership.
A few calls and call backs later, I am approved!! I made arrangements to get picked up from work to go sign the papers and get my keys. I called my insurance and transferred the information from my dormant vehicle to the VIN of the new one they had given me. I was excited; I was jumping out of my skin.
The Boy arranged to meet us with the plates from my old car, so I could easily get in and drive the new one home. We met at the bank so I could deposit my funds to easily write out the check that would lead me to my new vehicular fate.
My cell phone alerts with a call from the dealership.
"Yeah we just noticed a slight thing, since you got approved from this bank and not that bank, you lose $1000 in rebates so now you need to come up with another $1000 down."
My heart sank.
"What?? I can't do anymore than I told you, I had to beg, borrow and steal to basically come up with what I did in the first place"
Apologies are thrown, it wasn't their fault, it was the bank, etc. All I heard was what the kids in Charlie Brown heard whenever an adult talked. Tears streamed down my face.
A suggestion was made to take the words of their original deal to another dealership, one who liked to compete and beat the one I had been dealing with. Couldn't hurt right?
Yeah, that's 2 hours of my night my poor brother and I won't be getting back. More numbers crunched, and test drives taken and they wanted my first born child essentially. SO much for competition.
So now I am again in Limbo, or still in Limbo for that matter. Waiting for word that something will pan out. That options will be weighed and something will eventually work out.