When Stupidity Acts As A Driving Force
My gramps bought a car this week. Why an 80-year-old man needs a new Impala is beyond me. At least it was something pratical. I was wholeheartedly expected him to take us to a Porche dealership. That's right, us. He had my brother and I come along with him to buy the thing. I guess he wanted an audience for his achievement. How buying an Impala is an achievement I do not know, but I did know he would be buying lunch, so I didn't fight it.
"What time do we need to be there? Should we get going?" My brother said that. He said it from the other while on the couch, watching TV. He wasn't even ready, why did he even bother asking?
"I don't know, we have be there to meet with a man named Barry," gramps replied. He didn't know. He should have known.
"Well, what time is Barry going to be there?" My duties as problem sovler began early that day.
"He said something about after noon."
"Okay, it's 1:42 now. How long is he going to be there after noon?"
"Your grandma wrote down the message he left."
"Where is the message?"
Gramps looked around the kitchen for a couple seconds.
"The note is lost, isn't it?"
"It looks so."
"Let's just go now," my brother chimed in during a commercial, "I'm sure he'll be there."
My brother, a true master of making everything sound simple and easy.
We made it to the dealership around 2:30. For whatever reason they insisted on eating lunch before going to the dealership. I got a Big Mac, which I usually don't even like. I guess I figured I'd punish myself before the day did for me.
Oh, and needless to say, Barry had been expecting us since 12:00 PM. Good thing he worked for commission. He gave us the runaround while trying not to look peeved, and finally showed us the car gramps was going to buy.
It was an unimpressive thing, even by Impala's standards. The color was a dull silver, and the interior was gray.
"Because it will be easy to clean," that's what gramps said. I'm not saying he's wrong, I actually don't even know, I was just wondering when was the last time he cleaned a car.
Barry and gramps stepped into the office to sign the paperwork. Apparently they had already negotiated a price beforehand. I would have loved to known what number my grandad agreed to. While they filed out the paperwork my brother left to fawn over the cars he could not afford, and I sat in the waiting room and ate the complementary stale pretzels.
Why am I even here? You ever get a thought stuck in your head, and you just repeat all day long?
What was the point of going with them? I didn't help him pick out the car, the deal had already been made, so why did I need to go with him? I obsessed on this for about a half-hour before gave up. No use getting so worked up over it, right? Right? Right.
Gramps walked out of Barry's office ten minutes after my revelation. He looked happy, like when a kid realizes no one caught him eating his dessert before dinner. I guess they re-negotiated the price, and I guess gramps believes he made out on the deal. I still desperately wish I had been able to listen in on their haggling. I was already anticipating how my grandma was going to chew him out at the end of the month when the first payment bill came.
Fast forward. We made back home alright, gramps and I. Gramps drove the new car home, my brother drove the old one. No, he was planning sell it himself. A trade-in wasn't worth it to as far as he thought. He should have traded it in.
Like I said, Gramps and I made it home alright. My brother, he should have been right behind us. He was four blocks behind us it seems, and thought he could beat a red light. This was when everyone learned that gramps had canceled the insurance on his old car six months ago.
"Well, when I did it, I thought I wouldn't be driving anymore."
He was technically right, but also never more in the wrong. He now had to front the bill for a new front end on a Buick.
I'm going to visit gramps next week, and I highly doubt the new Impala will be there. Grandma may not be there, either.
This... this is my life. Pray for me.
"What time do we need to be there? Should we get going?" My brother said that. He said it from the other while on the couch, watching TV. He wasn't even ready, why did he even bother asking?
"I don't know, we have be there to meet with a man named Barry," gramps replied. He didn't know. He should have known.
"Well, what time is Barry going to be there?" My duties as problem sovler began early that day.
"He said something about after noon."
"Okay, it's 1:42 now. How long is he going to be there after noon?"
"Your grandma wrote down the message he left."
"Where is the message?"
Gramps looked around the kitchen for a couple seconds.
"The note is lost, isn't it?"
"It looks so."
"Let's just go now," my brother chimed in during a commercial, "I'm sure he'll be there."
My brother, a true master of making everything sound simple and easy.
We made it to the dealership around 2:30. For whatever reason they insisted on eating lunch before going to the dealership. I got a Big Mac, which I usually don't even like. I guess I figured I'd punish myself before the day did for me.
Oh, and needless to say, Barry had been expecting us since 12:00 PM. Good thing he worked for commission. He gave us the runaround while trying not to look peeved, and finally showed us the car gramps was going to buy.
It was an unimpressive thing, even by Impala's standards. The color was a dull silver, and the interior was gray.
"Because it will be easy to clean," that's what gramps said. I'm not saying he's wrong, I actually don't even know, I was just wondering when was the last time he cleaned a car.
Barry and gramps stepped into the office to sign the paperwork. Apparently they had already negotiated a price beforehand. I would have loved to known what number my grandad agreed to. While they filed out the paperwork my brother left to fawn over the cars he could not afford, and I sat in the waiting room and ate the complementary stale pretzels.
Why am I even here? You ever get a thought stuck in your head, and you just repeat all day long?
What was the point of going with them? I didn't help him pick out the car, the deal had already been made, so why did I need to go with him? I obsessed on this for about a half-hour before gave up. No use getting so worked up over it, right? Right? Right.
Gramps walked out of Barry's office ten minutes after my revelation. He looked happy, like when a kid realizes no one caught him eating his dessert before dinner. I guess they re-negotiated the price, and I guess gramps believes he made out on the deal. I still desperately wish I had been able to listen in on their haggling. I was already anticipating how my grandma was going to chew him out at the end of the month when the first payment bill came.
Fast forward. We made back home alright, gramps and I. Gramps drove the new car home, my brother drove the old one. No, he was planning sell it himself. A trade-in wasn't worth it to as far as he thought. He should have traded it in.
Like I said, Gramps and I made it home alright. My brother, he should have been right behind us. He was four blocks behind us it seems, and thought he could beat a red light. This was when everyone learned that gramps had canceled the insurance on his old car six months ago.
"Well, when I did it, I thought I wouldn't be driving anymore."
He was technically right, but also never more in the wrong. He now had to front the bill for a new front end on a Buick.
I'm going to visit gramps next week, and I highly doubt the new Impala will be there. Grandma may not be there, either.
This... this is my life. Pray for me.
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