End of the road

Which is only fair since you had such fun running me down
I spent a good part of my weekend wading through raw sleaze. In other words, I went looking for a replacement for the shitmobile.

I didn’t really mind the 50-sievert dose artificial smiles, the frightening rustbuckets on offer, or the lies that would make even Silvio Berlusconi blush. Those things go with the territory. The thing that got up my nose the most (both literally and figuratively), was the Geneva Convention-violating cologne.

Is there some kind of law that dictates that all used-car salespeople have to wear the most offensive aftershave on the market? Then again, I suppose it’s fitting that they exude the cloying, sweet stench of corruption.

I had to take a shower and wash my clothes when I returned home, but I can still smell them.

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6 thoughts on “End of the road

  1. Do you remember in 2011 when i gave away one of my nearly dead rust buckets? My mechanic said it only had 6 months before it would take a massive automotive shit, but the young woman who accepted it into her life kept that damned thing alive for 3 years. i could always tell where she’d parked during visits, due to the massive oil slick on the street outside… the door handle came off in her hand during a cold snap… no air conditioning or heat…. The zombie mobile finally died an epic death, throwing engine rods through the aluminum block a few weeks ago. Perhaps your shitmobile will enjoy an extended afterlife, playfully running down pedestrians and jumping curbs…. Rest in Peace…

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  2. That’s a diversionary tactic. They attack your senses and next thing you know, you’re paying too much for another shitmobile. Works every time. Beware! Do what I do. Pick up a copy of the Consumer Reports auto buyers guide, go on JD Power and buy what they tell you to buy. It hasn’t failed me yet.

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