Mark bought a new car today. And since he was looking at two of the same cars that I will be looking at when I get a new car, I decided to tag along. What a horrible, miserable, awful, soul-crushing, faith-in-humanity-destroying experience that was.
And he even knew exactly what he wanted and what he wanted to pay! Wow, car dealerships are terrible places. We were out from about 11 am until 6 pm. And I found that pretty much the whole experience was summed up very well by Futurama (the second is particularly poor quality but so disturbingly accurate to the car-buying experience that I thought I should include it):
"and yet, the luxury edition has so much more eagle, it saddens me to think of you missing out:"
I have a habit of picking my fingers/fingernails really bad when I'm bored or stressed. It's particularly bad when I'm both. At the end of the day today I noticed that I had pretty much shredded my hands; which I guess is partly my fault for not brining gum.
Anyway, I'm glad I went, if for no other reason than I'm afraid Mark would have committed suicide if he'd had to do that by himself (I know I would have), and also because it made me realize something important:
I now have a strong desire to drive my car until 2081.
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fusionpanda's journal
distressed