Cut the Wheel!

Every time I try to do something normal, it turns out completely bizarre.  And all the while it's happening I'm writing the next blog post in my head. This past weekend was a mix of bizarre reality and fantasyhead blog posts.

 I decided to buy my first car.  Oh I've purchased vehicles before, but only used ones or married ones or ones my dad gave me after he drove them for ten years first. The ghetto ride I was cruising around in had finally reached its embarrassment limit when the side mirror broke, swinging wildly with every turn. I enlisted Boy to help me research cars, because I needed a second opinion and because he's somewhat of a badass who doesn't take shit from strangers. Every girl needs a good badass in their back pocket for emergencies.  Boy had even coached me on how to behave in front of the salespeople.

"Now Girl, don't squeal and jump around at the first car they show you." "Be aloof, be tough."

Damn. All I have in my girl arsenal is squealing and jumping.

So, off we go to North Hills Toyota and are fortunate to be paired up with salesman Jay; a man who looked like he was no stranger to fifths of whiskey and Marlboro Reds. Life had clearly not been kind to this man, and this day was not about to make it any better.

We engaged in your typical car buying banter and I tried desperately to remain uninterested and aloof, while in fantasyhead I was screaming....I LOVE CARS! ALL OF THEM! I WILL BUY THE FIRST ONE YOU SHOW ME! In a true testament to my inner strength, aloof girl kept her trap shut and  grudgingly decided to test drive a Rav 4, explaining to salesman Jay that 4 wheel drive is of the utmost importance considering this past February kicked us in the proverbial balls.

Off we go. Just me and the open road. Well, McKnight road with Boy in the backseat and salesman Jay leading the charge. It is here that the day took an unexpected turn.  A turn right into the snowy tundra of the North Hills. Jay, in an effort to showcase the Rav 4's incredible snow handling skills, instructs me to drive up a snow covered hillside in the middle of nowhere. I, of course, being as trusting as Snow White, bite the apple and gun it up the slope.  Boy, levelheaded as ever, expresses his disdain from the backseat. "I don't think this is a good idea Girl."

"Fear not Boy!, Jay said it was good in the snow!"  Pedal to the medal baby and my little Rav 4 storms up the hill, wedging itself deep into the powder.  This is a tire-spinning, you ain't getting out without a plow kinda wedge. The next few hours were full of hand-shoveling, engine revving hysteria, as Jay, on the verge of a heart attack, was convinced that all we had to do was "cut the wheel and gun it!"

Enter one dealership snow plow and the afternoon goes from comical to surreal.  The snow plow, bald tires and all, also wedges itself deep into the snow. At this point, the remainder of the afternoon kind of goes like this:

Whaddya mean you didn't bring shovels?!
Jay sweats.
Boy swears.
According to Jay, snow plow driver is "gay", which is why they're also stuck. (Not that there's anything wrong with that.)
Girl writes out last will and testament in back seat.
Cut the wheel!
Gun it!
Bumper, once attached, now unattached.
Jay reminds us, once again, that if snow plow driver weren't stupid and gay we'd be out of here hours ago. 
This would be so much more fun with booze.

At some point we did extract ourselves from the snowy hell and , believe it or not, I bought the damn thing. Not the one we dismantled in the wilderness, but my first brand new car that is "good in the snow" with the bumper securely in place.


As for Jay, I'm sure he drowned his sorrows that night in bad karaoke and a gallon of Jack. Boy and I chose Mexican food and box o wine to calm our nerves. Snow plow guy? Poor thing is still gay. Oh well, we all have our cross to bear.