Wednesday, May 4, 2011


I really should be doing something in the area of securing new wheels.

I am now driving a 100 percent illegal vehicle; it's more than a month past its due date on the inspection, so even the grace period has passed, and it's got an ugly flapping cardboard box taped over the rear passenger side window, which ought to act as a beacon for cops.

But I just can't deal with it now. I'm in Denial. Sorry. There are Limits, and this is one of mine.

For one thing, I can't make a decision like this overnight. . . and by "overnight" I of course mean that if I can't have at least six months to figure this thing out, then I'm not going to figure it out at all. So, give me a ticket. Fine me. Whatever. Had I been left to my own devices I would still be in the old house, crumbling ceilings and all. Change is hard enough, but having to make decisions about change is something I can't do.

Beyond that -- in order to buy a car you actually have to walk onto one of those lots.

I hate those places.

It seems that you can't buy a car the same way that you would buy absolutely anything else, that is, you walk into one department store, look at the options, you walk into another department store, look at the options, then take what you've learned online and search a bit and get some more information and then make your decision.

You get to make an unemotional decision based on needs, desires, information, and, most of all, clearly established prices.

But when you buy a car, Jesus Christ, the minute you step on one of those lots some damn salesman is in your face trying to get all Social on you, and you know that he has Ulterior Motives. He's trying to be your Best Friend and you don't know him from a hole in the ground. You can't trust him about ANYthing, because every single vehicle he shows to you is something that he wants to get rid of more or less badly.

And who knows about the price? Sure, there's a sticker price on every vehicle, but what does it mean? What's the REAL price? They sure as hell won't tell you.

I don't LIKE those people. I don't want to talk to them. I ABSOLUTELY don't want them talking at me, trying to pretend that they are my best friend.  Okay, I am developmentally disabled, but I can still tell who my real friends are.

I think.

Everything that comes out of their mouths is a lie. I don't even want one of them to come within twenty feet of me. As soon as they begin to approach I feel physical discomfort and want to be Away From There.

Not very conducive to buying a car.

A car dealership lot is the stuff of Nightmares for me, and the websites are just as bad. So many options that my brain literally shuts down on the very first page of results, and anyway to buy something like a car sight unseen on the internet seems really stupid to me on a lot of levels.

Everything about buying a car -- especially including the cost at a time when when my finances are uncertain at best -- seems especially targeted at every one of my anxiety factors.

So -- I'm thinking that when cops drive around looking at the inspection stickers on cars, that they have, in most cases, just enough time to look at and process the COLOR of the inspection sticker. They can't possibly have such super-human eyesight as to be able to see, in motion, which MONTH is punched out.

My sticker is blue, and blue is still legal until the end of the year (although decreasingly so as the months go by).

I'm thinking that Denial is just the state I want to be living in for right now. In any event, unless someone is willing to step up to the plate and Hold My Hand through the process, it's the only state I'm going to be in for the near future.

-- Freder.


  1. I find it helps to imagine how horrible it would be to actually HAVE that job. To be a car salesperson. I mean, nobody must actually want to do that. Nobody grows up hoping to be a car salesperson. A bit of human pity goes a long way in making dealing with them bearable, at least for me. It also helps that my spouse hates talking to them-makes me do it-- but he's willing to make the money decisions, so at least it's not my fault..... Good luck!

  2. You're right, I'm one of your friends. I'd go hold your hand but I don't like those lots either! L~


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