Test Drive

Today makes 35 weeks.  We're tidying things up, getting ready for the little one.  One of those tasks is finding a new car.  As much as I adored my Echo, it is, sadly, no longer with us.  And, as practical and useful as Brent's Corolla is, it still has the same principle flaw the Echo did--only 5 seats.  So we need something bigger than a sedan, and we'd like to do it without going into debt.  Not having a car payment, ever, has been a huge blessing during those tight times in our life together.  We still want something that drives like a car, though, not a truck, and gets decent gas mileage--going from 32-36 mpg to ~18 mpg was just not going to cut it for us.  We've kept an eye on our options for several years and knew that with our requirements we would get to choose from the astounding total of 1 model.  (Canada and Mexico both have several more options.  I'm still kind of peeved about that.)

Finding a Mazda5 isn't all that hard, considering that the company refuses to market the poor thing, lest at any time the demand go up and they be required to actually make more of them.  Finding one with a manual transmission is a little more difficult, but still doable.  Finding a used one, though, is nigh unto impossible.  My guess would be that the sort of people who enjoy driving a stick are not the sort of people who trade in their cars "just 'cause." 

Anyway, after months of searching we found one.  We've test driven a couple of them, though not one of the older models, and I wanted to go check it out so that I could make sure my legs actually fit into the car.  I have, in my lifetime, had to rule out a car or two simply because my knee was up against the steering column.  What followed is one of those experiences that was horrifying, at the time, but caused us to laugh all the way home.

I wasn't altogether too worried when the sales guys had to make a few calls to figure out where the car was.  It's a large dealer with a patchwork collection of mini-lots.  We walked across a small side street and past a few other cars as everyone chatted.  James was enjoying the sunshine and his bottle of water that we'd grabbed from the cooler while waiting.  Our salesman went and grabbed the key and opened the front door.  He then pushed the button to unlock the rest of the car and muttered something about getting the car jumped so he could get the locks working.  What was that?  Surely I heard wrong.  He left and I figured out the manual locks for the back doors.  James and I hopped in the back and started poking around while Jonathan looked over the console up front.  Sure enough, the sales guy comes back with a battery starter, pops the hood, and gets things cranked up.  I never did figure out how the battery had died in the first place.  I couldn't quiet believe that they'd left the lights on, and yet that's somehow the impression I was given from his explanation.  Everyone piled in, with me in the driver's seat.

As I was pulling out of the lot, the lights on the dials started flickering.  Halfway through my turn, in the middle of the street, the whole thing died.  Jonathan and the salesman had to quickly hop out, wave traffic around us (we didn't have enough power to even flash the hazard lights), and push the car to the side of the road.  We jumped the battery again.  I pulled around the corner, just as the lights flickered again, and watched as it died, again, while I tried to get it in the driveway.  After yet another jump, and having driven maybe 250 ft., they took it into the shop to get a new battery.  I sincerely hope that that's the only thing wrong with it.

I could tell that our salesman was embarrassed by what had happened, but was bravely holding on and pretending that everything was great.  We played along and asked the price.  There wasn't a sticker on the car, nor had there been a price in the online listing.  His answer?  $19,995.  Excuse me?!?  I can buy a new one, for that price.  He tried to explain that that particular portion of the dealership deals with people who have really bad credit, so the price is to cover the risk, or something like that.  We didn't really let him finish.  A car that age with that sort of mileage is only worth $11k.  That's if it's in great condition, too, and this one was slightly worn with use.  We left, shaking our heads at the sheer audacity of that quote, especially after all we'd gone through at their hands.  We giggled at how awful the whole thing was, all the way home.

I did go back later, though, after they'd replaced the battery.  I still needed to know about my knees.