Saturday, March 8, 2008

244. ALL WET

From the Archives. (August 2006). The following is a partial list of people who have expressed interest in purchasing my used car:

A student named Zirui who has only driven cars in Asia and who sent an e-mail instructing me to drive to his house and show my car to him because he does not have a car and so cannot meet me.

(Uh. No.)

An annoying Nextel sales guy named Alan who asked me to meet him in front of the Brookstone store at the mall at 3 PM. So, instead of going to the water park with Danishgrrrl and her kids to cool off on one of the hottest days of the year, I stood in the blistering sun for 20 fucking minutes before deciding that Alan was a no show.

Then the guy actually had the audacity to e-mail me to ask why I didn’t show up. I replied that I waited 20 minutes for him and he wrote back to say “I assumed u would call me when u got to the mall so never left the kiosk where I was waiting inside. Is car still 4 sale?”

I didn’t reply because I don’t want this stupid ass driving my car.

The freshman who offered me $3,000 less than asking price because “It’s all I have,” assuming, I guess that I am running a charity for students with all of my riches.

And, finally there’s the smart-ass MBA student who offered $1,500 less than asking price sight unseen. When I told him I am not interested in selling my car for $1,500 under Blue Book value, he replied “but I have an advantage. I can make a decision quickly.”

Oh I bet you can, Sugarpants. And let me guess: your biz-school prof told you to always state your so-called advantage in negotiating. But get this: MOST people can make a decision quickly if someone agrees to sell them a cute little car for $1,500 under Blue Book value.

My reply? “Enjoy driving a used Yugo, slick, since that’s all you’ll be able get for that piddling amount.”

And now, for something entirely different:

If I forget, for a moment, that unfortunate angel dust episode or all those joys of being a juvenile delinquent on probation or that time I got my backside shot full of rock salt because a gardener caught me trespassing on private property or that time I hit my Algebra teacher full in the chest with a trash can after she was an ass to me or that time the cops set up a road block to stop my speeding Camaro but, instead of stopping, I put the car into a skid and slid right around them and kept on going or that time I outran a highway patrol car on a red clay road in the same blue Camaro, tossing out beer cans frantically, or any number of other episodes from my misspent youth, then I could say that Annie Proulx is wilder than me based on this summary from today’s Writer’s Digest:
She had a reckless past: She tried to leap over a barbed-wire fence and didn’t make it; she ran away through the rain on the eve of her wedding and found herself lying on a railroad bridge in front of an oncoming train; she got caught in a thunderstorm on her third flying lesson; she threw a knife at someone she thought she hated; she swam across a lake while she was eight months pregnant; she was speeding and rolled a car late one night.

Brokeback Mountain ain’t so bad either.

And, finally, it’s 45 minutes since I started this entry, which means that, in the time I've spent typing, our country has spent another $8,388,333.50 on the war in Iraq.

BEST-OF SPAM SUBJECT LINES: kill the pain or it will kill you

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