“That’s the color of baby poop,”
announced an elderly woman at the Toyota
dealership some weeks ago. We were looking at the
new mail-truck-boxy Matrix.
“What
kind of car are you looking
for?” the car salesman
asked me on the
phone.
“A cheap sexy
car.” I know this kind of car
is as rare as a blushing
bride, but why not ask a bored
salesman named Brad a hard
question and see what
happens?
“With
distinguishing
characteristics, like side
vents and turbo dual
exhausts,” I added. “New or
gently used.”
Brad
suggested a pre-owned
Crossfire. “It’s a 2005
with a Mercedes engine for
only $15,900, with a 5-speed
transmission.”
What
would I do with five speeds?
The intersection cameras are
spraying tickets willy-nilly
in our city, and the speed
limit lowers with regularity.
What’s the point of power? I
need a sexy cheap car, not a
fast one.
