On October 14th, the real license plates got put on my car. It’s kind of sad really. How quickly the paper plate era flies by. Now in my recounting of that great date in July when I set forth on my first unassisted automobile acquisition expedition, I didn’t quite capture the full car shopping sitch and my Three. Great. Mistakes.
Mistake #1: I took the boys down to the SLO Volvo dealership first. And of course we test-drove a brand-new version of the plug-in SUV I’d had my eye on. And it was fully loaded. Scott took us on a test drive and demo’d all the bells and whistles. It had a sound system that allows you to choose from famous music halls to a personal acoustical concert in your living room. The front console is essentially an iPad on steroids. Talk to the Volvo Siri and she’ll read your text messages to you. The back seats have these two little buttons where child booster seats magically raise and lower, perfectly camouflaging back into the upholstery for the convenience of your work colleagues. Having recently experienced the triple humiliation of working myself into a sweaty mess removing booster seats, hastily brushing away the disgustingness that lurks under and behind all seats recently occupied by little boy bum-bums, and then also having to jump-start my car in the parking lot at work, while the CEO and founder of a partner drives by and waves, I don’t know how I can live without this feature. And the pièce de résistance? Scott tops it off by showing the boys they can wave their foot under the rear bumper and the rear door will open and close, hands-free. They dub it “The Slick One” and no other car can compare.
Mistake #2: For good measure, we drive a used hybrid BMW SUV with a teenager named Jake, and next door, a new hybrid Mercedes with Fil. The Beamer smells like cigarette smoke. Can’t tell if it’s the car, or slightly bigger Jake. He’s been off the cigs for a week. Needless to say, we never should have driven these lesser cars after The Slick One. As all good realtors know, most people don’t believe the first house they see could possibly be “the one.” They just started their search. They’ve hardly played the field. How could the first one out the gate be the best? Forgetting to plan the strategic order of test drives… rookie mistake.
Mistake #3: The little people think they’re key decision makers. Tens of thousands of dollars more for the foot thing? Totally worth it, Mom. We neeeeed it.
I bring the Bat Mobile home and the boys are underwhelmed. Yeah, yeah… it has the rear camera. And the heads-up display. The rear of the car raises and lowers with the touch of a button? Big whoop. No booster seats? Pashaw. What about the foot thing? You didn’t GET THE FOOT THING? Hmmmmm. You should’ve got the Slick One. And they abandon me in the driveway.
This weekend we’re in the SESLOC parking lot after Nate’s team’s narrow win against Finn’s Pink Panthers. Nate scored two. James and the boys are stuffing the soccer stuff into the back of my car when, for the second time in two weekends, there’s a warning beep and the dang hatch starts to come down on his head before I save his life. Ungratefully, James glares and grumbles at me like I’m purposefully attempting to concuss him and it dawns on me…
Step away. Run your foot under the rear bumper. The door beeps and begins to raise.
Take that Chumps– it is The Slick One.