I'm quickly learning that guys love tinkering and general fix-it's for a woman in need ["need" is often self-determined by said guy]. More than likely an automatic response that can be tracked back to caveman days when the cave dude was always trying to help a cute cave girl reach the cub off the top rock. Guys like to feel wanted and needed. It's not rocket science.
Liam offered to check out my stereo system because the sound in the right side speaker was dodgy. He peered around the component, and promptly asked for a flashlight so he could examine the wires and determine the problem. Ofcourse, I was assigned to be the pretty tech assistant/ flashlight holder. Liam was able to figure out after 2 seconds that my problem was "I need a man" for various things about the house. Ah huh. [I did get him back the next day while cooking lunch, he was unable to put saran wrap over a container of leftovers, so I told him he "needed a woman."]
In addition to gaget and electronic diagnosis, men also like taking on internet -based "research" for their girlfriend/ partner/ wife/ girl they're shagging. And no, I don't mean THAT kind of research. I'm talking safety ratings and fuel economy.
I'm in the market for a new car. While my current car is in relatively good condition considering it's age (think Demi Moore), I'm concerned about it's dependability (think Bruce Willis). With every thump, whirl and swish, I become more convinced that I should turn down the bass and stop listening to Justin Timberlake's "Sexy Back" and pay more attention to what's going on under the hood/ axel/ splash guard.
Liam was sweet enough to take me out for a test drive on Friday (the cars, not me). I had explained that I already knew which dealership I wanted to deal with (Toyota), and which car I wanted (Corolla Sport in impulse red). Naturally, being the man who's researched (and researched), he didn't want his careful hours of auto anaylsis to be wasted, so he pursuaded to get me to try a few others cars to get a feel for quality and performance.
The first dealership we went to had shoddy customer service. After our test drive, the saleman asked Liam what he thought of the car. Playing it "cool" Liam said that he really really liked it. I, on the other hand was not convinced and the salesman knew it. Silence sayd a lot.
Trying to work his salesman magic, the man offered that Liam's opinion didn't matter as I was the one with the decision making power. Well duh. Obviously he thought we were purchasing a vehicle together, and figured that women hold a lot of weight when it comes to making big ticket purchases. I couldn't get out of there fast enough.
The next dealership had over-the-top customer service. The salesman explained every single minor detail about the car - what every button did. The 400 pound salesman was leaning in from the driver's side door (I was sitting in the driver seat trying to remember which button gave the oil readout and which one pumped up the seat). He was two inches from my face the whole time, I was trying not to laugh, wondering whether I should smoke a cigarette afterwards.
We saved the best for last and Toyota did not disappoint. The moment Liam sat in the driver's seat and felt the leather bound steering wheel, he was hooked. I'll never forget his words, "You were so right, this car is THE ONE." We drove up to the Wal-Mart car park and I hopped into the driver's side, feeling a bit less nervous about driving a brand new car. I drove about 5 feet - the length of one parking space (just like in that car commercial) and said, "I like it!" Then we laughed hysterically.
Liam did show me how to measure performance and quality versus value for your money. Plus, he got to reve some engines and drive some cars. But sometimes you just need a woman ;)
Showing posts with label Driving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Driving. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Monday, January 22, 2007
Happy Holiday!
I bet you didn't even know today was a holiday!
Today's International Drive Like An Asshole day - and EVERYBODY'S celebrating...
Unlike other international holidays, you don't need fancy colorful decorations, yummy calorie filled sweets, or shiny sparkly presents for that special someone. In fact, all you need is you. And some bad driving habits. Mullet optional (you know what they say - "business in the front, party in the back").
Why spend the time and energy on "normal" holidays when you can be an asshole for free? [Free does not include the probable cost of increased insurance fees, accumulation of parking tickets and traffic violations.]
So when your friends get caught up in the commericalism of the "normal" holiday season, you can sleep (and act) like a baby by being the asshole you always knew you could be.
Who needs signal lights anyway? They're soooo overrated. Why roll gently to a stop when you can slam on the breaks and make that "skreeeeeeeech" noise with your tires! Talk about getting the attention of the ladies. Stud. Ooops, I meant stupid.
And amber lights don't mean caution, stop if you can - noooooooo, it means you should roar your engine and speed up to make it through the light. Jackass. Ooops, I did mean jackass.
So ask yourself, have you been an asshole today? Yeah, me too ;)
Today's International Drive Like An Asshole day - and EVERYBODY'S celebrating...
Unlike other international holidays, you don't need fancy colorful decorations, yummy calorie filled sweets, or shiny sparkly presents for that special someone. In fact, all you need is you. And some bad driving habits. Mullet optional (you know what they say - "business in the front, party in the back").
Why spend the time and energy on "normal" holidays when you can be an asshole for free? [Free does not include the probable cost of increased insurance fees, accumulation of parking tickets and traffic violations.]
So when your friends get caught up in the commericalism of the "normal" holiday season, you can sleep (and act) like a baby by being the asshole you always knew you could be.
Who needs signal lights anyway? They're soooo overrated. Why roll gently to a stop when you can slam on the breaks and make that "skreeeeeeeech" noise with your tires! Talk about getting the attention of the ladies. Stud. Ooops, I meant stupid.
And amber lights don't mean caution, stop if you can - noooooooo, it means you should roar your engine and speed up to make it through the light. Jackass. Ooops, I did mean jackass.
So ask yourself, have you been an asshole today? Yeah, me too ;)
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Honk If You're An ***hole
A youngish sassy redhead exits Shoppers Drug Mart after buying most recent stash of cosmetics. Spots geekyish guy also exiting said store over her left shoulder. Probably just bought condoms she muses.
Their eyes meet across the crowded parking lot, she blushes slightly. He raises his sturdy hand out of his navy wool blend coat pocket and disarms his car alarm. It makes that "beep beep" noise just as she walks by his vehicle. Like the car is electronically whistling at her.
She looks at him, as if to say, ask me out if you dare. His shiney GM with the new car smell does not impress her. He looks at her, as if to say, don't you love my shiney new GM?
The redhead slides into her gently used Toyota with the fake strawberry air freshner smell. Turns the ignition and puts it into drive. She slams on the brakes as the shiney new GM car guy cuts her off in the parking lot. She sighs. And smiles to herself. Perhaps he was only there buying hemorrhoid cream.
Their eyes meet across the crowded parking lot, she blushes slightly. He raises his sturdy hand out of his navy wool blend coat pocket and disarms his car alarm. It makes that "beep beep" noise just as she walks by his vehicle. Like the car is electronically whistling at her.
She looks at him, as if to say, ask me out if you dare. His shiney GM with the new car smell does not impress her. He looks at her, as if to say, don't you love my shiney new GM?
The redhead slides into her gently used Toyota with the fake strawberry air freshner smell. Turns the ignition and puts it into drive. She slams on the brakes as the shiney new GM car guy cuts her off in the parking lot. She sighs. And smiles to herself. Perhaps he was only there buying hemorrhoid cream.
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