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So my wife's car lease is up. Time to buy. I know someone who wants to buy a new car and I had to go to the dump anyway, so I go to Ernie von Schledorn. They have a few models the woman wants to drive. I don't test drive so I don't care. I see a Tiguon and it's smaller than I thought. The point is Obama wants to destroy our family truck because it don't get good gas mileage. It's old, farm abused, half scrapped already. Obama says, "I'll give you $4500 for it." I say, "I'll take it. It'll help cover losing our child deduction this year and if you want to tax our health care benefits, I'll rape your mom for a fifty cent piece from the Fed." Our goal is to find a vehicle that gets 5 more MPG than old red truck and a combined 18 MPG or better for an SUV or 22 for a car. Not too hard.
So I walk into EVS and see Demolition Man in a yellow button up shirt and brown tie closing in before the door's closed. "One question," I say and he hesitates. The water smells less like blood to him. "You taking clunkers for cash cars yet or waiting for the late July final issuance?" I say clunkers for cash even though it sounds stupid because I know if I reference the C.A.R.S. program, it'll only confuse him. He says they're waiting, hands me his card, says I can give him a couple hundred and he can hold one of the ten cars they have til then. I ask if he works Saturdays, and he says, "Yes, I'm a slave." He then looks around the showroom a little uneasily to see if any other white people heard him, or black people.
I'm a renegade
A runaway slave
I've been dreaming about my freedom
On the underground train
While these lyrics run through my mind and I stare at him blankly, juxtaposing this 50 something year old black man with 80s hair, he turns back to me and asks which car I'm looking at. I tell him that Tiguon, maybe a couple of the GM products we can get employee pricing on. He stops me and says I can't get those. I need to get one of his 10 hybrids. I'm startled. This guy's a proud enough black man to reference himself as a slave. He must love Obama. He works selling cars. Could he really not know how this Obama C.A.R.S. program works? "No," I tell him. "Actually pretty much every VW on your lot qualifies, as do those three GM SUVS. I explain to him about the MPG requirements and he starts looking uneasy. "I have to check that," he says dubiously. "That would be a good idea," I say as I leave.
Next is the Lincoln lot. The FWD MKX qualifies. I hope they know how to sell cars there. Or maybe I don't. I just got a call from Alabama. A gentleman looking for "Dookie's" number. I considered giving him the phone number for the salesman I spoke to yesterday, but I didn't. Instead I just told him he got the wrong number and he apologized, which is more than you get from most these days.
So I walk into EVS and see Demolition Man in a yellow button up shirt and brown tie closing in before the door's closed. "One question," I say and he hesitates. The water smells less like blood to him. "You taking clunkers for cash cars yet or waiting for the late July final issuance?" I say clunkers for cash even though it sounds stupid because I know if I reference the C.A.R.S. program, it'll only confuse him. He says they're waiting, hands me his card, says I can give him a couple hundred and he can hold one of the ten cars they have til then. I ask if he works Saturdays, and he says, "Yes, I'm a slave." He then looks around the showroom a little uneasily to see if any other white people heard him, or black people.
I'm a renegade
A runaway slave
I've been dreaming about my freedom
On the underground train
While these lyrics run through my mind and I stare at him blankly, juxtaposing this 50 something year old black man with 80s hair, he turns back to me and asks which car I'm looking at. I tell him that Tiguon, maybe a couple of the GM products we can get employee pricing on. He stops me and says I can't get those. I need to get one of his 10 hybrids. I'm startled. This guy's a proud enough black man to reference himself as a slave. He must love Obama. He works selling cars. Could he really not know how this Obama C.A.R.S. program works? "No," I tell him. "Actually pretty much every VW on your lot qualifies, as do those three GM SUVS. I explain to him about the MPG requirements and he starts looking uneasy. "I have to check that," he says dubiously. "That would be a good idea," I say as I leave.
Next is the Lincoln lot. The FWD MKX qualifies. I hope they know how to sell cars there. Or maybe I don't. I just got a call from Alabama. A gentleman looking for "Dookie's" number. I considered giving him the phone number for the salesman I spoke to yesterday, but I didn't. Instead I just told him he got the wrong number and he apologized, which is more than you get from most these days.
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