Car Wars Episode I: Wheels and Deals

(Episode II)

I bought a car last week.

Yeah…I know.

At least I think I bought a car.

It feels more like I’m sitting in a space capsule on my way to Mars.

But the good news is…I think I get HBO!

It’s not even a very fancy car.  I was never the type that needed to tool around in an expensive dream machine that essentially does the exact same thing a reasonably priced dreamless machine does…namely, roll you around from here to there.

I don’t need the glitz and glamour of a prestigious hood moniker to announce to the world how cool I am.

I use Twitter for that.

So I buy your basic automobile with four tires and a steering wheel, which I always insist they throw in for nothing.

And now I get HBO!

You probably can’t tell, but I don’t buy cars very often.

Mostly because it’s stressful.

Like divorce, unemployment…or even death.

Actually death is less stressful than buying a car.  There’s very little negotiation in death.

Plus you don’t have to worry about interest rates…or whether or not you should pay 50 bucks for a cargo net.

So I try to go to the car dealer about once every decade or so.

And believe me, it wasn’t an easy decision cuz I hate to lose my “Impeach Nixon” bumper stickers.

This time I did my research online before I bought.  And since I’ve been buying pretty much the same car for the last 20 years, it doesn’t take me a lot of time.

I even asked for a quote from my local dealer, figuring once they started calling me with offers I would have no choice but to go in.

So I get an e-mail price quote of $19,121. Not bad I guess in terms of car buying where you can spend $30-40 K on a basic family soccer car.

But let’s not kid ourselves; to most people—freelance writers, especially—that’s still a lot of money.

I mean I can hire someone to do terrible things to at least two people with that amount of money…especially if I use a coupon.

And, after buying a car, there are always one or two folks I have in mind.

So Z and I drive over to the dealers last weekend and meet with Gabriella, the woman with whom I was talking with online. I had already told her I was ready to buy and knew exactly what I wanted. She greets us with a pretty smile and asks us to have a seat, whereupon she huddles in the corner with a couple of guys who occasionally look back over their shoulders to sneak a peek at us.

Eventually, after a series of rock paper scissors—two out of three—a jovial fellow, named Barry, trundles over to us and announces it’s his “pleasure” to assist us today. He further goes on to say that since we know exactly what we want he is going to make this process as easy and pain free as possible. Then he proceeds to write a number on a piece of paper, to which I ask, if that’s the combination to his locker….

Barry stares at me, blankly, for an uncomfortable second or two and then begins to laugh, perhaps a bit too much, suspecting that I had made some sort of a joke.

As the number on the piece of paper was considerably less than what I was originally quoted, I was immediately put into a buying frame of mind. 

However, since I didn’t fall off the turnip truck yesterday…for once…I elicited a few concessions, such as making sure that no other unreasonable fees or dealer add on would be attached other than the mandatory tax and motor vehicle registration costs. I had also been told by my initial contact, the smiling young woman, that I was eligible for a “Loyalty Discount” since I already owned one of their cars.

So all in all, I’m feeling pretty good about the sweet little deal I’ve slyly negotiated for myself.

The only proviso that I had to concede was to agree to buy a car from their in-house inventory, which limited my choice of preferred colors.

Barry mentioned he had a particular grey model in mind that he wanted to show me, which gave me pause, since grey cars always reminds of me of a bad experience I had when the government agents stopped by unannounced that time.

Bygones….

Z and I huddled ourselves and worked out our own low key strategy, because the last thing you want do is appear overly enthusiastic, when car shopping. 

You really want to exhibit as much of a “I can take it or leave it” attitude as you can muster.

So, with poker faces in place, we’re ready to see my car in waiting.

This particular dealership is pretty small as dealerships go, so Barry asked us if we wouldn’t mind riding over to their service building up the street.

We said of course not, but had second thoughts once we arrived and were led down into a dark cavernous storage facility. 

It’s not that I minded the dingy garage like conditions so much, but the odd whimpering noises coming from behind some of the closed doors made me second guess pushing so hard for the free car mats.

I’ve been prattling on here for a while, and since my market research shows at this point you probably need a break from all this tension, I’ll stop here and pick it up next time.

When I continue this tale, I’ll let you know if we ended up with a new car or not. 

Okay…I can’t wait. 

We did…but when did water boarding become part of the trade in process?

________________________________________


Car Wars Episode II: The Dealer Strikes Back

For the latest Retorts: Click here

Tweet Follow @FreelanceRetort

Share this on Facebook

Tolerate the Retorts on Facebook
—"Like" is much too much of a commitment—


 

Very Venus of You

So I look up in the sky the other day and what do I find?

A hole in the sun…..

Great…

Right?

A hole….

In the sun….

No wonder it’s been so cool.

Luckily, as I found out later, it wasn’t a hole at all.

Just Venus meandering across the galaxy, annoying the sun.

The sun hates it when anything jumps in front of it, let alone a silly little planet of love.

Sounds petty, I know, but that’s just how big stars are.

“Down in front!”

That was the sun shouting at Venus, in case you missed it.

Speaking of missing it—mostly because I need a segue—I missed the actual event myself.

There was a rerun of “McMillan & Wife” on.

So, next time….

I guess most of us down here don’t give a lot of thought to what’s going on up there in our Solar system, let alone the galaxy.

We’re all too busy trying to decide if we should go with the Honey Nut Cheerios or the new Multi Grain Peanut Butter.

I mean it took some of us forever to abandon the basic Cheerio.

And it’s still not talking to me.

Who would have thought an oat grain entity could be so resentful?

And speaking of resentful —because I need yet another segue—if you were a galaxy, how would you like to be named after a candy bar.


The Milkyway...?

I guess it could have been worse, though. It could have been called the “Butterfinger Galaxy”.

If you’re a galaxy you don’t want to be known as that.

Imagine the crap you’d have to put up with from all the other Galaxies.

Anyway, apparently the planets are constantly jockeying for position as they spin around the sun trying to get our attention.

Well, all except Pluto who’s been in a deep depression ever since they re-designated it as a “Dwarf Planet” a few years ago.

I mean that kind of thing is killer for any planet in any galaxy, let alone one spinning around in a sugary confection.

Plus, it’s a well-known fact in planet circles that “Dwarf Planets” hate that designation and prefer to be called “Little Planets”.

Every once in a while the planets—the Big Boy Planets—need to take a break from all this cosmic back and forth, so they just slow down.


Sometimes the planets even retrograde and start heading back in the direction from which they just came.

And then that creates a whole other set of problems for all of us down below.

Let alone the planets coming up from behind who aren’t paying attention…like Uranus who always has its head up…well, you know….

What...?  I'm supposed to pass on a Uranus op?

Astronomers, however, don’t believe in all that backtracking stuff. They say a retrograde planet is just a cosmic optical illusion that only makes it appear as if the planet is moving backwards.

I guess that’s one way of looking at it.  But I have a theory of my own based on my late Uncle Henry who was famous for his endless stop and go orbits around the neighborhood because he was constantly stopping to pick up loose change.

Astrologers, on the other hand—not sure which one—have their own take on all this planet attention grabbing behavior.

Each day, they observe each planet’s position in the sky, taking note of its behavior in order to translate how all that affects us down here…you know, like with all your important life choices.  

So here’s what they say this Venus thing means to me right now:

“The message from the cosmos could not be clearer. Put aside your anxiety. Stop letting your fear get the better of you. Appreciate all that's good - and where one bright idea seems to be beckoning in the distance, don't just shrug your shoulders and ignore it. That's your solution: the answer to your most pressing question. The plan which, if you follow it, will lead you to nowhere but success. A wonderful future is calling to you. The rare Transit of Venus won't happen again until 2117! If you're looking for more love, money or inspiration in life, you can find it now”.

So it looks like Uncle Henry was right about the loose change, and apparently current celestial conditions make it a perfect time to find it. 

Plus, I think it’s telling me to take a chance with the Peanut Butter Cheerios…..

Thanks Venus….

Tweet Follow @FreelanceRetort

Summer…Really?

Okay…where’s the summer?

I mean it was here…for a while…wasn’t it?

Steamy, hot sticky summer.

Even though it was just spring.

Of course, I ran and installed all my air conditioners, lest I dehydrate and develop heat stroke.

I couldn’t risk the confusion and erratic behavior that accompanies that…again.

My lawyer/neighbor told me I would probably only get away with that as a credible defense twice.

So I couldn’t risk it.

It was even too hot to go and sit on the beach.

Remember?

And now it’s not.

Now it’s like March again…cold and dreary…rain, so weary.

Actually, no…it’s not like March at all.

March was warm and dry.

I had a tan in March.

Most of April too.

May was pretty much a wash...literally…right up until Memorial Day weekend.

And that’s when the heat and humidity came,

And the air conditioners went in…and the shorts came out…and the BBQs fired up.

Summer was here…and now it’s not.

June or no June.

But we can adapt.

It’s what we do.

We adapt…to just about anything.

I still have my snow shovel nearby.

And the guy I rented my wool coat to left me his cell number.

I tried to call him but he’s a hard guy to get a hold of.  And it’s kind of odd that he lives in a Chinese restaurant.

I think he was in the military at some point because his name is General Tso.

Like I said, I’ve called quite a few times over the last few days and asked for him, to no avail.  The folks he lives with are nice, though. Every time I call they shout a lot of things I can’t understand, and then they send over some food.

Weird, huh….but tasty….

So I know I can get my coat back if I need it.

Hopefully I won’t.

Hopefully the summer weather will return and I can bring out my thongs again.

Despite the court order.

Tweet Follow @FreelanceRetort

Officially a Twit…on Twitter

So I’m officially a Twit. 

I mean Z has been calling me that for years, but now I guess it’s official because I’ve created a Freelance Retort Twitter thing.

Brian Moloney‏@FreelanceRetort

Or is it just….‏@FreelanceRetort.

I don’t know.

Because you can’t Twit yourself on your own computer…so I don’t know what works and what doesn’t.

I know the proper term is “Tweet” but I think it should really be “Twit”. In fact I’m almost certain that was the first thought when they were thinking this all up. But then some marketing guy, of course, probably put the kibosh on it, thinking "Twit" would put a negative spin on everything.

But that’s how marketing guys are.  They miss the creative angle.  Because, again, I’m almost certain that the real twits amongst us are proud of our twitness.

It is who we are….

And we should be allowed to marry…without the required waivers.

But no…now we send ‘Tweets”…which just puts us in mind of a short pudgy bird.

I’ve been resisting social media ever since it came into existence. In fact I’ve been resistant to anything social for most of my life, unless it involves cru de tae.

 I’m not exactly sure what that is, but I know it’s always present when I socialize...if it's not, I walk.

Anyway, after a year of retorting, I’m still trying to figure out how to get more people—other than the guy from the CIA who has to monitor these things for secret code words—to read this stuff.

So my blogger friend’s been telling me that this was something I needed to do in order to drive traffic to my site.

I said, “I don’t want to drive traffic to my site. I think the traffic should drive itself or at least take the bus”.

And then she changed her e-mail address…again.

So I did it.

And, as I write this, I already have two whole followers.



Plus a couple of others that come in separate pieces....

Of the intact followers, one is the person who egged me into this in the first place.  I guess she felt guilty for emphasizing my patheticness…that plus the fact I threatened her cat if she didn’t.

And the other is the cat…who’s not taking any chances.

But I’m thinking of blocking the cat, because it’s funnier than I am.

Anyway, now I officially have 2 Twitter followers, if you count the cat.

I’m hoping to get 10 more so I can start my own church and get the tax exemption.

So basically, for about a week, I’ve been leaving funny quips for my two official followers—again, I'm counting the cat—but not the CIA guy.

Not wanting to be too much of a Twit, I did some research to see what kinds of things other people were Twiting.

It seems there are a lot of people—celebrities for the most part—who apologize for their unruly behavior and inappropriate comments.

So I thought I’d better start off with getting a few things off my chest, as well….

Brian Moloney‏@FreelanceRetort

I’m sorry about the incident with the Chihuahua….

Brian Moloney‏@FreelanceRetort

I wish Travolta would stop tweeting me…I’m not that guy anymore!

Brian Moloney‏@FreelanceRetort

I never saw that woman before and those pictures were obviously  doctored!

Brian Moloney‏@FreelanceRetort

Or was the woman a doctor and I never saw those photos before?

Brian Moloney‏@FreelanceRetort

‪I will never borrow Gary Busey’s dentures again….

So that’s what you get if you follow me…plus a link to all the latest retorts.

Follow @FreelanceRetort

The Freelance Retort on Twitter…

Guaranteed to say something stupid every day!

Hard to resist…I know.

People are already jumping on board.

The guy who sleeps in the park with the squirrels said he’s been following me for years…..



Tweet Follow @FreelanceRetort

It’s June!

June has always been a happy month.

Just the sound of it lifts your spirits and warms the coldest of winter days.

“I don’t expect to be stuck in this snow drift much past June!”

When you’re a kid it’s the month when the end of school finally comes into view.

And, if you were a catholic school kid, you were allowed to stash your uniform in the back of the closet, once June arrived, and come to school looking like a whole other kind of nerd in plaid short-sleeve shirts and khaki pants.

Of course there was always one kid who lost the note and still came to school in his uniform only to be publicly mocked and held up to ridicule.

Nuns can be cruel.

Besides I liked my uniform.

It made me feel like a yachtsman.

The weather really starts to feel steamy in June, which is required summer ambiance.

There’s nothing like that first day of waking up wrapped in a soggy sheet, preferably your own, preferably in your own bed, and preferably not behind the deli.

But sleepwalking is a legitimate defense in most states.

The morning light is warm and long in June. 

There’s also nothing like jumping out of bed—or from behind the deli—before 6 AM and taking an early morning June stroll through the neighborhood.

Dew drops balance on blades of grass as a refreshing mist drifts through low hanging trees.

Steam rises from the special little gift your neighbor’s dog deposited next to your newspaper.

But it’s all okay…all of it, because It’s June.

It closes out the year’s first half.

It prepares us for the start of the second.

It warms us on the coolest day.

It guides us through July and August; September and most of October.

It tells us we made it.

It reminds us to enjoy it.

It’s June….

It's music...

It's June....

 

____________________________________________________

If you enjoy the Retort, please click "Like" on the FLR Facebook Page. 
 
If you don't like it, please click the same button...but with a negative attitude.


Or you can just

Tolerate the Retorts on Facebook if "Like" is too much of a commitment

For the latest Retorts: Click here

 

Follow @FreelanceRetort on Twitter    Tweet

Share this on Facebook