Friday, July 25, 2003

I think my dad's going to buy a Touareg.

For those who haven't seen the everpresent commercials on television, it's the brand-new SUV offering from VW. We've had good luck with Volkswagens. Our love affair with this brand of car started when I was sixteen. Like every sixteen year old in my social circle, I thought it was my god-given right to drive a BMW Z3. Hell, my dad even owned one. In my naive privileged "bubble" world, I honestly believed it was perfectly logical for him to give me his BMW as soon as I received my drivers license. All of my friends had nice cars. It made sense. I was just as cool as my friends, so this non-logic led me to expect the Z3 keys in my hand at any time.

Guess what? It didn't happen.

One of the most traumatic moments in my young adult life happened one sunny Saturday afternoon. My dad and I piled into his cute little roadster, and headed out of the house. He was driving towards Momentum BMW, the place where he bought his car. I began to feel hopeful. My inner dialogue went as follows, "Maybe he's going to get me a little 3-series coupe? That'd be nice. I'd take that. Are we really going to the car dealership? Wait... it's right there! Omigosh, WE'RE PULLING IN! WE'RE PARKING! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!" My dad and I wander around the lot for a little bit, look at all the cars, and he says, "I really think that three series coupe is nice looking." And then, to my chagrin, we walk back to his vehicle, and pull out of the parking lot.

He gets onto a freeway, and I think nothing of it. "Maybe we're going to lunch or something. Lunch... I'm kinda hungry, that's a good idea." Suddenly, my dad exits and pulls into a Ford dealership. I start panicking. What in the world does he want here? A sleazy salesman approaches us, and my dad has the following unbelievable conversation.

Sleazy Salesman: Hi there, what can I help you with?
Dad: Well, I wanted to look at the Focus. Do you have any in stock?
Jennifer: WHAT?! A FOCUS?! I refuse. I do not want to look at it.
Dad: ....
Sleazy Salesman: They're right over here. Follow me. What model are you looking for?

I sulked and grimaced and pouted and acted like a horrible spoiled brat. I was so mad, I didn't talk to my dad for the next thirty minutes.

A couple of weekends later, I realized that I wasn't going to get a BMW. I needed to come to my senses. I needed a plan to save myself from the Focus. I hated that car with the depths of my soul, with the marrow of my bones. So I did a bit of research online and came up with a line of "back-up" cars. The Honda Civic. The Honda CRV. The Mitsubishi Eclipse. The Mitsubishi Diamante. The Ford Mustang. And this strange little car called a Golf, made by Volkswagen. We went to a few dealerships, and then we headed to the Volkswagen dealer. And I fell in love. It wasn't with a Golf, actually. I fell in love with a dark blue Cabrio. Unfortunately, my dad said, "NO WAY IN HELL" to the convertible, so I compromised and suggest the Golf. We didn't get the trim level I wanted. (My father was convinced that if I had a sunroof, I'd leave it open and my new car would turn into a new bathtub.) We also couldn't get the color I wanted. (In order to get the dark blue, we'd have to be added to a waiting list, which would eventually take about two months.) But at least I didn't get stuck with that ugly candy white one...

In the end, I'm glad that things turned out how they did. I have a nice car, with good gas mileage and an amazingly large amount of storage space. My car's not particularly sporty or fast or stylish... but she's cute. She fits my personality. She's reliable. Penelope (my car) is a good match.

And as I've progressed beyond the Second Baptist environment, I've realized how LUCKY I am to have a car. My parents have always tried to do their best for me. And we've liked the VW so much, my mom bought herself a Golf. And now my dad's going to purchase a Touareg. We will be the epitome of a VW family.

:: posted by Jennifer N. 7:42 AM