8 Minute Memoir (I Remember When)
I forget where I saw the 8 Minute Memoir, but it seemed like a good writing exercise so I figured I’d jump on board. I’m already incredibly behind and have no idea when/if I’ll finish it. Such suspense!
I remember when I got my first car that was mine all mine. I was supposed to get sole rights to the station wagon my sister and I shared in high school, but she decided to run it straight into a utility pole instead (you should check it out sometime – it’s on Country Club Road in Warsaw and is quite lovely).
It was New Year’s Eve 2003 (2004?), I was home from UIndy for Christmas break, and out of nowhere at lunch, my dad suggested we go look at cars. I didn’t get my hopes up because as everyone knows, a parent’s suggestion of looking at something rarely equals buying something. He and I went to the dealership and test drove an SUV that was the best used car the dealership had to offer. When the steering turned out to be hella loose, I knew that was the end of my new car dreams. But then!
My dad spotted a Chevy Malibu. The sales lady quoted one hell of a deal for a price. We test drove it, we wondered what was wrong with it because it was too new to be sitting in a used car lot with nothing wrong with it. My dad told the lady we’d take it. She told the sales manager. The sales manager told my dad she had quoted us the wrong price – it was actually way more. My dad said, “Cool, bro,” and we were set to walk when the sales manager decided he’d give it to us anyway.
I played it cool the whole time by saying absolutely nothing (mostly because I had no idea what to say – I’d never bought a car before and I didn’t believe any of this was real). When my dad went to sign the final paperwork, he noticed some random fee they had added in, and that’s when I believed the deal to be dead. But again the sales manager decided to let it go. The magical power of New Year’s Eve and end of the month/year quotas to be met.
We got home, and my dad told my mom she might want to transfer some money since he had just written a check for this sweet new ride of mine. And that’s when I realized my parents were secretly rich.
Soybeans, Too 