…and so the day ends….

Let us recap the day:
Up at 6:15 or so despite having no babies at home.
10:30 first car. Dealer says, “Don’t worry about the: dings, scratches, seats or console. I’ve got those parts on order.” Uh, no.
I am driving. Phil accuses me of being a used car lot savant as I maneuver through the many cash car lots on Hwy78. Phil mans his phone to check web-sites while I control the wheel. The racers of Le Mans have nothing on me. We bob and weave and do drive-bys of 30 miles of mom and pop car dealers.
11:ish I zip into “Olympic” cars. Spot our treasure. Phil jumps out while I stay in the car to act as the wheel man in case a salesman shows up. I rev the engine like a con at a bank heist as Phil literally kicks the tires. I am checking my purse for hand sanitizer to douse off the sleaze. As I have my head buried in my suitcase like purse I miss the sales gentleman wearing dark denim hanging low and a hoodie. I glance up just in time to see car dude jump into the drivers seat and a pained looking Phil leaning in to hear whatever is being pitched.
10 minutes later we are back in the car howling in laughter. Turns out the car won’t start. Windshield is tracked and the sunroof went EEEKKKKEEEEKKKK like nails on a chalkboard when Phil touched it. “Just needs a little work,” promised Zeus as we peeled outta the lot. He promised to call. We didn’t promise to answer.

Last hope. Craig’s list ad of the perfect car. We have to wait as this car can only be seen from 2:30-4. So we wait for Roberto.

Car arrives. Sweet! She’s a beaut. Can this be true?

Excitedly I cup my hands and peer inside. All hopes are dashed. No.  Seats look like they are made from  original leather. THE original leather-the first ever,  ever invented. I would’ve sobbed but Phil was already in the drivers seat. I jump in the passenger seat. “I sell wife car. I have house in my country. Need fixed. I have no money. I sell car to send to my Bulgaria home.” Great. He then slashes $200 off posted price. Phil is salivating. I am weeping. I invoke our code word: red.

No car.

6 hours later we are back on the hunt. Our fingers ache from scrolling and trolling the web. While I search the kids settle down to watch a movie I had recorded for them. Kinsley’s been waiting weeks to watch it. Credits roll. Say what!? Oh. It appears as if I have recorded the Spanish version of the movie. “No buenos noches esta casa!”


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