Car shopping is a nightmare
"You should get this one," Doc said, pointing at a blue 2-year-old Suburban.
The War Department shook her head.
"I came here for something smaller."
"I don't know why we're looking for a new vehicle," I argued. "You just bought that Honda CRV about six months ago."
She shot me a look.
"This was all your idea."
"Was not," I said.
"I don't know why you guys are with me anyway," she said. "I've never needed anyone to pick out my cars."
"It's because you need some direction when choosing such a large vehicle," Wrong Willie said. "Take this Suburban for example. You can get a dozen kids in here if you wanted to."
"We don't have little kids anymore," the War Department reminded him. "Ours are almost grown."
"Grandkids," he said.
"Much, much later," she and I said in unison.
Doc scratched the back of his neck.
"The size will come in handy at some point," he said. "And when you're not using it, Rev could borrow it, and all the Hunting Club members would fit just fine."
"Ah-ha! That's why you guys are here," she said, pointing a finger at me. "I knew there was an alternate reason."
To stay out of the line of fire, I opened my pocket knife and began to clean my fingernails.
"That's disgusting," my bride said.
"But we're outside," I defended.
"He does that all the time in my cafe," Doreen said.
I looked up to find the owner of Doreen's 24 HR Eat Gas Now Cafe' standing beside the War Department.
"When did you get here?"
"Doesn't matter," the War Department said. "Do you really clean your fingernails in her cafe?"
"I just did it one time. It isn't like I do my toenails in there ... well, maybe just that one time, but that was an emergency. We're shopping for a new truck."
"I don't want a truck," the War Department said.
"How about this truck here," Doc suggested.
"Do they ever listen?" my bride asked Doreen.
"Nope," she said.
"A truck would be great," I agreed with Doc. "You have a front and back seat, and then you could use the bed to haul stuff."
"It's too big," the War Department said.
Wrong Willie pointed toward a smaller Toyota.
"This one is just your size."
"I don't want a truck!"
"Maybe she wants one even smaller," Doc said.
The War Department made a sound in the back of her throat. It went "guaaaa", indicating that her frustration level was growing at a rapid pace.
"They make me do the same noises," Doreen told the War Department. I really didn't want them talking about what the Hunting Club members do at the cafe. We try to keep things separated, if you know what I mean.
"This is a weird sales lot," Wrong Willie said, looking around. "I've never been in a used car lot this long before a salesman tackled me."
Seconds later, we were accosted by a salesman.
"You had to jinx us," I told Willie.
"He's my cousin," he said.
Cousin Salesman slapped the hood of a used truck. "This one is good as new," he said.
I looked at the vehicle. "The bumper is bent. There are dents all along the side. It looks like someone dropped a load of pipe on the tailgate, and the windshield is cracked. How can you say it's as good as new?"
"It's just used a little," he said.
I turned to the War Department.
"Look, let's look at a newer Suburban or maybe something a little smaller, like that Expedition over there."
"What part of 'I don't want a new car, especially a Suburban' do you guys not get?" she asked.
"I don't think she wants one," Wrong Willie said.
"That monster truck over there is just right," Doc said, pointing to a vehicle slightly smaller than a locomotive.
"I think you should get this cute little VW bug," Doreen said. "Then you and I can drive around and have girl time, and I'll tell you everything the boys talk about in the cafe."
I woke up when the War Department punched me in the ribs.
"What was that for?" I asked, trying to clear the fog from my head.
"I told you I didn't want a Suburban, but you and those dorks you run around with have spent all night trying to get me to buy one," she said.
"What???"
Then she told me of the dream I just related, and I felt the need to write it down for you, because you all need to have a little taste of my weird little world.
• Reavis Wortham's e-mail address is r.wortham@tx.rr.com.
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