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“Yes, ma’am,” the salesman swallows.
“Good.”
When there’s a pause in conversation, I offer him some help. “She’s looking for a safe vehicle. The newer the better.”
“Oh, yeah. We have lots of options, sir.”
“You're not selling to me,” I say. “You’re selling to her. Talk to her.”
“Of course. Sorry,” he stammers. “Ma’am, if you’ll follow me I can show you some options.”
Angie humors me and test drives an enormous Expedition, but when she turns down a tight street, she white-knuckles the steering wheel. “No, Raf. Hard no. This is way too big, and we’re not even in the old part of Philly where the streets are smaller.”
“Ang, we’re having big kids,” I say from the passenger seat as she leans forward trying to get a better look of her surroundings and pushing past parked cars on the street. “Between the giants in your family and mine, there’s no way our kids will be small. We need the big one.”
“I’m not pushing out NBA players, dude. They don’t need much space until they’re older, and by then we’ll have different cars.” She looks in the rear view mirror at our salesman, nearly sideswiping a BMW. “Are you gonna sell us our next car, Brian?”
“Sure,” he winces, holding onto the oh shit handle.
“Good. I’m turning back and we’re gonna try that Subaru instead.”
Apparently Brian can’t handle a little aggressive driving from Angie, so he lets us take the next car by ourselves. I’m surprised at how spacious this one is for the size and after reading through the safety accolades online, I give her the thumbs up. This is a good choice, a good middle ground between a small city car like she’s used to and a school bus—her words—that I originally wanted.
When we pull back into the parking lot, I ask, “Do you want to negotiate or do you want me to do it?”
Angie puts the car in park and turns it off. “Knock yourself out,” she says with a smile.
Brian and all his nice guy energy came to a screeching halt the moment I told him we were ready to pull the trigger. I know for a fact this car is listed two grand over market value, but he’s not budging a cent. In fact he’s added costs for bullshit like documentation fees. I’ve never been dicked around like this while buying a car. Do I have the money to pay for this car outright? Yes. But as a matter of principle, I will not pay more than this car is worth. I don’t want to leave here without a car for Angie though—I mean we’ve been here for four hours already. Ang had a pizza delivered for Christ’s sake.
“I’m sorry,” Brian shrugs. “That’s the best we can do.”
I take a deep breath while gritting my teeth. “I’ll be right back,” I say, turning on my heel and crossing the showroom floor to find Angie sitting in a chair with a slice of pizza in hand. “If you wanna take my car and go home, I’ll meet you there. I’m gonna be a while longer. He’s not budging.”
She swallows her bite. “Really?”
“Yeah,” I huff. “I don’t know what his deal is, but if I have to stay here after closing I will.”
“Let me try,” she smiles, then stands up and stretches her back. “Stand about ten feet away when I talk to him and keep looking like this,” she waves her fingers in front of my face.
“Like what?” I grumble, following her.
“Like you’re on the verge of hulking out.”
“What are you—” I start, but she presses her index finger to her mouth to shush me.
My best friend walks over to Brian who’s talking with another sales guy and interrupts them. I can barely make out what she’s saying. With one hand still holding a slice and the other caressing her large baby bump, she coos, “Brian honey. Do you see how pregnant I am?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Do you have any idea how tired I am?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Very,” she smiles. “I want to go home. I want to go home with a car tonight, but if you don’t give it to me for the fair price he wants,” she gestures to me, “then we’re not buying it. And we’re not gonna buy from here ever.”
“I understand, but—”
“Brian, he’s about two minutes away from having a breakdown. Numbers are his thing. If you can’t make the numbers work, then I’ll just keep driving around in my unsafe tin-bucket of a car that smoke billows out of and he’ll keep barking at me to get a new car.” She looks down at her belly, causing his eyes to follow hers, and then I think I hear her sniffle. “Maybe if he sees that I have my shit together,” her voice cracks, “then he’ll want to marry me.”
