I crashed the car yesterday.
I smashed it up big time, impressive given that I was rolling backwards and my foot wasn’t on the accelerator. Crunched the entire side of the car into a red waist high pole which was completely in my blind spot. D’oh. Kids and self all fine. Children will need therapy after the frightening number of swear words that came out of my mouth immediately after the crash. Generally directed at all of them, blaming them, because in my brain at the time, if they had just done what I’d asked the FIRST time, it wouldn’t have happened (I subsequently found out after posting pics to facebook that fighting children has caused MANY of my friends to drive into poles/pylons/other parents in school car parks.
Mr 8 and Mr 9 had me at the end of my tether after trying (unsuccessfully) to tell me they would walk to pick up Miss 6 from ballet. We were only about 300m away from where we needed to be but had to drive down a busy alleyway with no footpaths.
“No”, did not register in their brains.
“Absolutely Not” did not register in their brains
“Did you not hear me the first time?” did not register in their brains
“Get in the car and put your bloody seat belts on right now before I lose the plot” did not register in their brains
THUNK. SMASH. CRASH.
Personally I’m pissed off that I didn’t write it off completely. Its our people mover, the Tarago and I hate it a little more today than I did yesterday. Yes it’s practical for a big family. Yes it’s got sliding doors so that toddlers don’t smash your doors into the car next to you at Coles. Yes it’s got 8 seats. Yes it looks like a spaceship but when driving it, I feel like I’m riding a motorbike that could flip any minute.I don’t feel safe on the teeny tiny tyres that corner like you’re on a 100 year old roller coaster and brakes that need a good 200m notice to slow down for a red light. It’s just a horribly practical, overpriced spaceship with tiny motorbike tyres a little bit of boot space.
Following my seriously psychotic behaviour post crash, I vowed to never again buy a Tarago and to sell it immediately given how easily it crumbled under no acceloration.
So, after dropping Mr 1 at daycare this morning, I ducked into Toyota to do some new people mover research and I wanted to book Mr Tarago in for repairs. My aim, convince the Big Guy that a Landcruiser is what we needed. It wouldn’t matter what type of pole I drove into in a Landcruiser, the pole would come off second best. I walked in, feeling confident and keen to learn more….and I walked…..and walked…..and walked…..past FOUR NEW CARS SALESMEN and THREE USED CAR SALESMEN in both USED and NEW car lots. NO ONE, not one person came and asked me if they could help me, what I wanted or if I was in the right place. Nada. Nothing. Four potential customers who walked in after me, all of whom were male were all greeted and being shown a plethora of vehicles.
I’m not one for raging feminist propaganda but c’mon. SERIOUSLY? Is this the final frontier? Can you imagine the salesman at The Good Guys ignoring all the women because they were looking for a TV? What planet are we living on? I’m a bit of a traditionalist and think that women and men are different and should be for too many reasons to list here however when it comes to buying cars, we chicks know what we want and what we’re interested in BECAUSE YOU DICKHEADS, WE DRIVE CARS TOO. We want to know how many iPhone chargers it has, how far forward the seat goes, how loud the stereo is, how many baby seat restraints it has, how many cup holders it has for Maccas on long trips, what the fuel consumption is and will our kids be safe in it? That DOESN’T MEAN we’re incapable of deciding what type of vehicle WE WANT TO DRIVE.
The Big Guy and I have a process when buying cars, I work out the make of car, the interior and the non-negotiable bits and bobs that are needed given I am now a full time taxi driver. He then works out the cylinders, torque, kilowatts, horsepower, gigabytes or whatever the feck runs cars, and usually advises me on the model type and what’s best for my type of driving. Then he walks away and watches (whilst laughing) whilst I negotiate a price. I am sure he’d love to to the negotiating but I enjoy it more and so takes a back seat.
Usually that would be the end of it and car sold but I rather enjoy the negotiation so I then call every other dealer within a 70km radius, tell them the car and exact specs I want, that I’ll be buying a car by the end of the day and the guy with the best price will get my money. I always ensure it’s in the last week of the month too when the sales guy is behind on his quota and will do anything for that one last deal. I then go back to Mr Original Helper and tell him the best price I can get and he will ALWAYS match it (hmm, always saying he, have never been sold a car by a woman – weird). Works a treat and have saved anything from between $4,000 to $10,000 on a deal. I’m only sharing that with you dear readers because those sales guys REALLY pissed me off today.
Not all car sales people are bad guys and I have a mate at a different Toyota dealership who will sort me out and he’ll get the business because he looks me straight in the eye and says “What type of car would YOU like to drive”.
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