When I Need A Pick Me Up, by my friend Ryan King

Tuesday, May 8, 2007

Well. As It Turns Out ...

(Originally 3/20/07)

... maybe this was the weekend for it after all.

I "own" a brand new, shiny, black 2007 Toyota Corolla. Damn you, American Dream. Damn you, Capitalist Pig-Dogs! Why did I feel so good driving "my" brand new car home when it means that I pay nearly $400 a month for the "privilege"? After sacrificing the next two paychecks for a delayed down-payment (oh they know how to getcha)?

Well, first of all, I guess I should thank my rapist at the dealership. He was seductive and charming. He had me spilling my guts after the first half-hour. It helped that he looked like me, if I had been born in Jamaica in the 50's. But actually, since I went all the way there to get a car, I wasn't actually raped. I went there spreadin' them, with a miniskirt as short as a breath. He must've seen me coming from the Parkway.

Secondly, can I call it, or what? 18% interest, exactly!! Seeing that the car dealership is so huge, they can get loans approved which smaller dealerships cannot. So to present my case to the financier was not the laugh-riot that it should've been. Therefore, I didn't have to wait this entire week to get approved. They were giving me the keys and parked the car out front before I even got out of the financial office. Literally.

Third, I still think they run game. My paramour did all this proposal, counter-proposal, let-me-go-in-the-back-and-talk-to-The-Man-about-this-offer dance. It's just crazy. I couldn't believe he didn't slip on all the oil he was producing.

But that was nothing compared to The Closer they had in the financial office. How is he gunna start off in the hallway by saying "How do I know you?!" before he even sits me down in his office to get me to sign the financial papers? Butter enough to supply every theater on the Eastern seaboard! And I lapped it up. He almost convinced me to buy the deluxe package of protection on the car! Me, who NEVER buys the additional package on ANYTHING. However, he did appeal to one area of my life which I couldn't refute. Getting this car loan will repair my credit. Before, the only other alternative was to get a credit card with similar interest, and though that would have taken much less of a bite out of my wallet, I didn't know how I'd even use one, since all I spend on is food (read: Starbucks), comics, and tolls to NYC. Provided I ever got approved in the first place. But now, even though the car loan interest is 18%, if I ride with it for about two years, my credit score will improve. Ride with it = NO LATE PAYMENTS, INCLUDING MY SCHOOL LOAN.

As for that 18%, I can try to refinance the car through another bank after a while. This I know is possible, since I had successfully consolidated my school loan. Also, it's possible to pay ahead on the principle of the loan, which, not having to pay rent, makes possible. I know what it's like to pony up big greasy globs of money each paycheck (see; Credit Cards & Personal Loans, Paid Off Over The Past Year). Not that I want to go back to that lifestyle. But it looks like what I want and what I have to do are often mortal enemies.

Lastly, I find I am an encultured sucker of the highest degree. I have a new car!! I hated that other one!! And I didn't need a co-signer!! What a happy little burgoisie pig I am. And yet, leftist cynicism aside, it does feel good to know that I am not utter trash in society's eyes. Someone somewhere trusted me enough to give me a loan. Either that or Buttery Finance-Guy and Oily Car Salesman just did a train on me. Now I know how ugly girls feel after the abusive, smoking, biker dude takes them on the pool table in front of the whole bar. It's embarrassing and I should be furious, but ... it felt good and at least I got some.

Oops. There goes that leftist-cynicism again. Oh well.

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