Harry is thinking "my dead weight will soon numb his legs
and when he pushes me off, he will then grab the can of peanuts."
Chuck likes a new car about every 4 years or so. He will not step foot in a clothing store to buy new shoes or a new shirt but he loves to shop for cars. He loves the researching, the shopping, the negotiating....I hate it. In the early years of our marriage, we shopped for cars together and I sat for the 4 to 6 hours and watched him turn a smiling, savvy salesman in to a nervous, sweaty wreck. I have such a bleeding heart for the underdog that I would whisper to the salesman, "sorry" as we walked away from the last deal he had to offer. Then roll my eyes as we were almost to the door and the nervous, sweaty wreck of a salesman would grab us back and say, "Let me go talk to the manager one more time." Several times later, I was exhausted, wanted to crawl out of there on my knees and could barely look at Chuck.
Now? I go to the dealer, look at the car. Pick the color I want or bless the color he wants and then go home. Hours and hours later, he drives the new ride home.
But this time, I was there because I got tricked by Chuck telling me he just wanted me to pick the interior color and he wanted me to look at it one more time but he wasn't going to do the deal that day. It seems we were looking at a 2014 model but we wanted the 2013 for the "deal." They couldn't find the 2013 in the color we wanted so they would honor the deal they had made with this 2014. What? Once I figured out he was going to do his dealing thing, I headed to the waiting room. I felt trapped, almost claustrophic but I was trying very hard to be nice. This particular dealership had tables and chairs, cookies, coffee, water bottles, a bowl of fruit, and a t.v. I suspect a woman was involved in the design plan. Okay, the wait shouldn't be that bad. Sounded like they had the numbers figured out already.
I was waiting and the clock was ticking. An hour had gone by. Fresh cookies kept coming out of the little toaster oven and I was refraining with all I had in me to ignore them. I ate an apple. I drank a water bottle. I played Solitaire. Chuck comes out of the salesman's office and gives me the Sticker Price page off the windshield to hold on to. He grins and says it's a done deal.....now off to Finance. (Off to Finance means at least another 3 hours as Chuck is not budging on the interest rate he wants.)
As Chuck is walking away...he turns back and looks at me....
Chuck: Don't lose it!
Me: Don't lose what?
Chuck: The Sticker Price.
Me: Where would I lose it? I'm sitting right here? (rolling my eyes at him)
Me: Why would you even say that? Whatever! Like I'm going to LOSE IT??? It's a piece of paper! Where's it going to go? (I may be a little grouchy at this point but the nerve of him to think I would lose it. Talking to me like he's my father! The nerve of him.)
Hours go by, I have folded the Sticker Page up and put it in my purse. I check it now and then to make sure it's still there. Yep. Haven't lost it.
I play a dozen games of Solitaire. I check Facebook a million times. I look at Pinterest. Hours, hours, hours. Check the paper, still there. Almost funny now that I kept checking it. But I kept checking it.
Suddenly, I wonder if Chuck got the garage door opener out of the old car, now known as the trade-in. I find him in Finance and interrupt to ask him...without really making eye contact with the Finance guy because I feel sorry for him. Chuck said, "I don't remember." I get the keys and head outside to look.
It's a good thing I went out there because there was a little trash in the pocket by the door so I start cleaning. I don't want the person who cleans up the car afterwards to think we're messy (yes, I think like that.) Then I look in the pockets behind the seats and there are some sunglasses and more trash...Sonic mints, napkins, straw wrappers, airline boarding pass, baggage claim, etc. I start throwing all the trash in my purse for lack of a better place to put it. I go through the whole car and find a pair of tweezers under the seat (well, there you are!), a few coins and an old magazine. Several kernels of popcorn from the night we went to the movies and I brought the container of leftover popcorn to the car.
The garage door opener? Not in there because DUH this car had the kind of button that can be programmed to open your garage door and so no opener had to be left in the car. But still, good thing I went out there and got that trash.
I come back inside to my home-away-from-home and head to the ladies' room. By now I've had 2 water bottles. I empty all the trash from my purse and go back out to my table.
Finally, after hours, Chuck comes back out, with his chest puffed out and proud as a peacock, because he has the keys to our new car.
We head home in 5'o'clock traffic....grrrr, just what I needed...more sitting, more entrapment. I am happy with this new car but I could have done without the labor pains it took to get it.
Once we get home, Chuck rounds up all of his papers to file away in to his folder...the folder he takes with him when car shopping, full of his super hero negotiating powers. He comes in the room...
Chuck: Where is the Sticker Page?
Me: In my purse. (I point towards the kitchen.)
Chuck: (after digging in my purse) It's not in there.
Me: Oh, my gosh! (spoken with disgust because he can never find anything!)
I'm digging through my purse. Not in there. Not in there! Why isn't it in there? How could I have LOST IT? Think. Think. Think.
Oh, no I didn't. Please tell me I didn't throw it away with all the trash from the car.
Karma, you are a biter.
When one speaks unkindly to one's husband,
when one's husband ask them not to lose something,
one will lose that something.