06.02.2008 - 10:33 p.m.

You answer the phone before you realize it's your mother in law. Over the course of explaining to her how everything is going, she asks, in her cheerful, clueless way, if you like the car you're going to make an offer on. You say:

1) (cheerfully, with bitter edge) I hate every rattling bolt in it, actually. It sucks, and even though I know it's a good little car, looking at it makes me want to throw something, and really, coming from a racing family, you should know better than to even *approach* that question. Also your son is still not searching for a job, and this angers me even though I specifically told him that was okay this week while we found me a shitcan to drive.

2) (gravely) Well, it's no Miata, but it's what's best for us right now. It gets really great mileage, and it was a grandma car, so it's never been to much more than the grocery store and church. And we've been looking at others, but we won't be able to test drive anything else for weeks on end, like we've been able to do with this one.

I can't decide whether going with door number two was bravery or cowardice. It probably doesn't matter. I always picked the high road in those books as a kid, or what I thought was the high road, and it always got me killed.

I should really, really not post this one. I'm sorry that I'm going to anyway.

-stonebridge

previous | next