Salsa red

Salsa red is the color of my new car. After six months of putting my name on a list, I was able to pick up the Prius today. For the most part, I'm just selfishly excited about having this car. I mean, I feel so American about it, so consumer greedy, materialist, self-indulgent - like some of the guys at work who compulsively think about cars, talk about cars, look up pictures of cool new cars online, put pictures of cars on their desktops, know car stats like baseball stats - horsepower, fuel injection, liters, maximum speed. Bells and whistles. I'm very proud of myself for having a hybrid. And salsa red, at that. Who'd have thought?

On the other hand, though, I think of the expense of it all, and that it'll take me years and years to pay it off, and that until I sell the 2 year old Escape, I own two cars - something that I'd vowed I'd never do. I think about how what I've spent on this car would keep a respectably sized third-world village in food and clothing for a decade. I think about all the dangers of caring about a thing like this, about being so proud about what is after all just a possession.

And then I remember that this particular possession will get anywhere from fifty to sixty miles per gallon, and that it's a car (all we need) instead of a mini-SUV, which after two years, I can say we don't need. (I realize that my birth mom and her husband just got a new Escape and that they're as excited about it as I am about this Prius - but they'll really use four wheel drive. It's not wasted on them.) And I remember that this car has driver and front passenger seat-mounted side and front and rear side curtain airbags, Smart Key entry System (I only have to walk to the car & the key in my purse sends a signal and unlocks it), HID headlamps, integrated fog lamps, Vehicle Stability Control, and a battery with a 10-year, 100K mile warranty. And that at a stoplight, it goes silent as the gas engine completely shuts off. Zero emission. Yeah. And it's salsa red. How kewl is that?

The bad karma car salesman story goes like this:
I put my name on lists with two dealerships. This is a questionable practice to begin with, but when you're told it will be four to nine months for a car to arrive, you get experimental. At the second dealership, the one I ended up going with, I put my name on the list as a casual backup plan on the off-chance that they could get me the vehicle sooner. I spent a total of 2 minutes with each salesman at the most. Just enough time to give them my name and contact information. And that was it. I never saw them again for 6 months. I did, however, make calls to both of them around the beginning of December, asking if I might be able to push and get the car before the end of the year to take advantage of a $2000 tax credit. Salesman #1, north of here, was helpful, but very slow to respond to messages, slightly impatient and patronizing, and whenever I called for him, I was either put on hold for five minutes or more, or completely cut off by accident. The receptionist was chronically confused, and the rental department they had (I'd rented the Prius from there for a day to test it out in August) was so uneducated about the car that they nearly talked me out of it with their doubts and ignorance.

Salesman #2, south of home (between home & work, and where the sales tax is a quarter percent lower), was decidedly slicker and more experienced. He was very quick to respond to every one of my calls, and he offered me slightly different packages or colors in case I wanted to go that route to get a quicker car. It could have annoyed me, but in this case it impressed me - as did the phone staff there. They were courteous and helpful. They knew my salesman's schedule, and never disconnected me while transferring my call to his voicemail. Ironically, his salesmanship made me think of getting the top-of-the-line navigational package, which comes with a 6-CD player, a GPS, and bluetooth technology. I'd told him I'd take either the middle package I'd originally signed up for or this fancy version. Then I called Salesman #1 and told him that I'd consider the high-end package too, if it would get me the car sooner.

I also asked for pricing for the cars before they came in. Salesman #1 gave me a vague answer, even after he'd had time to look it up. Salesman #2 called me a day quicker with an exact amount for each package.

Both salesmen gave me a heads up that my car would be arriving about two weeks ago. Salesman #1 said it was the navigational package I'd requested, in salsa red. Salesman #2 said it was the middle package I'd originally ordered, in salsa red. I had a choice to make: whether to go with the snazzy car from the less helpful salesperson at the inept dealership where the tax is higher, or go with the good-enough-for-me car from the better salesman at the competent dealership where the tax is lower.

When D pointed out that you can get a GPS for not a lot of money, and then carry it with you outside of the car too, and when I realized that I don't really want any more excuses (like bluetooth) to spend time on the phone while in the car, and that I can only listen to one CD at a time, anyway, I knew that there was no point in spending $5G more for a car from the salesman who wouldn't even give me an exact price.

I realized this, but I didn't call the northern salesman. A day passed, then two. (Or was it three? I admit it could have been three.) Of course, he called me before I could call him. He said, "I have great news for you! Today's your day! Your car is here!" I'm sure he heard from my voice that something was wrong. I asked him what package it was, and he said, "The navigational. In salsa red. Just like you requested." When I explained that actually, I'd had my name on another list and had decided to go with them, I thought he was going to blow a fuse. I mean, he was pissed. And justifiably so. But still. He could tell I felt guilty about it all, and he played right off that. He gave me a lecture about how "not okay" it was for me to do what I'd done, and how "We really hate it when you--when people--do this kind of thing." I apologized several times, and explained that one of the reasons I didn't feel too bad about it is that THERE'S A SIX MONTH WAITING PERIOD FOR THESE CARS and they have a list of about a hundred people hungry to buy this vehicle. I said, "I'm sure you can sell this car right away to someone else." And he said, "That's not the point." And I agree. He was right. I accept responsibility for my poor judgement and any hurt it caused him. But still. His last shot to me was an angry, "Well. You'll never get a loaner car from us. But that's your choice."

And it is.

But blech. For hours after I spoke to him, I was sure something terrible would happen to me. First of all, I half-expected some sort of punishment from the universe for my bad behavior. And besides that, even though he couldn't do anything over the phone, his anger and bad energy was so strong, I expected it to chase me down where I was.

It was a good lesson for practicing forgiveness of my own mistakes and detachment from other people’s created drama.