There’s something infinitely depressing about a weekend. You know, it’s boring, and you don’t get to work, or go to school, and instead have to just sit around doing nothing when you could be having sex with girls in school bathrooms. (This is, of course, assuming you can convince a girl to have sex with you, which in my case is like attempting to convince a pig to wear a tuxedo.) This Friday, I was especially sad and depressed at the upcoming weekend. And so my mother satisfied my urge for something interesting, unique, unusual to do, by buying a car.Well, technically, it wasn’t to satisfy me. It was more like, we went to a Mexican food restaurant in Albuquerque called “La Hacienda”, which means “The House” in Spanish (named for the fact that it was once an office building), and she said that, since we couldn’t go fishing, we could look for cars and computers. We’ve needed both for a while. So we go out there, to CarMax, and my mother realizes she has to have a Ford Escape. She’d never seen one before, and she had been wanting a Focus, because she felt as if that was a good choice. But then, after taking one look at that interior, with its distinctive black plastic look and lack of woodtrim, she just knew. You know what I mean? Yeah, I’m sure you do. So I’m going to force you to shut up now.
Not seriously. Seriously, on the other hand, we then left to look at CompUSA and Circuit City, probably because we felt like it. But then we kept on moving, looking for another dealership, and so we just went up to the dealership on our hill. If you’ve ever been to Albuquerque, you know the one I’m talking about, because it has a comically large flag draped patriotically over the dealership, which had a Mustang in its lot named “Eleanor”, which is apparently the actual car name that Ford gave them to use, probably named after former First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt (1837-1969). Ugh. But nevermind, so we went there, and we saw several of these little Explorers. My mother looked at them, and I steered her toward an orange one, which I felt was perfect for her, and also because all the other Escapes were “Tungsten Green”, whenever a better name would be “Seafoam Green”, or “vomit green”:
(Photo courtesy Tom Arthur on flickr.com)
We bought it, probably because we felt like it. And we brought the new truck home, and my grandmother, who was born apparently at the last Stone Age and who remembers back in the days when horse-drawn wagons could be had for the same cost as an average house today, was characteristically disgusted, like the French, only worse because the French are all the way over in Europe a bazillion miles away, whereas Grandma is in our front room, and she (understandably) gets angry when we go ahead and buy a brand-new, $20,000 orange car without even a phone call.
So let me tell you about this car: It has the largest engine my mother’s budget could afford (the smallest one); the most extras we could ever want (none); and a complete lack of any safety features or refinement.