The 2002 Ford Windstar. May it find a loving home, preferably with a mechanic inside.Soooo, I spent much of my week researching. Maybe not "researching" but living vicariously through friends on Facebook, who all seem to be driving minivans made by non-big-3 manufacturers that don't rattle, squeak, and clank. I have been keeping an eye on Honda offers over the past several months and noted that for the first time in years, the offers are under the MSRP and dealer's invoice. Hmmm, thought I, what a lark it would be to have something a bit more reliable than the Windstar.
Crunched numbers and dealt with car salesmen by telephone. E-mailed back and forth with the He-Crab. (He was for it, especially since it wouldn't be his battle-rattle-wearing shell sitting in the sales center).
Visited the lot on Sunday to grasp the finer nuances of the "LX" versus the "EX". Thought I was moving up enough just going from a Windstar to an Odyssey...probably could live without a 6-disc CD player, a tri-climate control and automatic doors (which creep me out!) Determined that unless a flight attendant was issued with the mini-jump-seat ("Seats Eight!"), it was probably not worth the extra $3K.
The offer expired today and, as followers of the Realm know, I have a morning-only leash before Charlie-boy gets home from school and begins therapy-sweet-therapy in-home. GMK, LLGA and I reported shortly after 9 a.m. to the dealership to do the deal. I had assembled an impressive-especially-for-me folder of important documents (title to the POS, general Power of Attorney yee-hah!, proof of insurance, copies of Ben's Leave/Earnings Statement for Feb 09 wow!, PDF print-outs of his ID and driver's license and military deferral card from the Great State of Illinois, etc., etc.).
Ominous Sign #1: Rich, my internet sales manager guy and retired Navy LCDR, was not there. They called Rich and he was "just getting into the shower". Clearly, my crazy eyes leapt from my eye sockets and punched the info-desk babe in the face because she quickly suggested that "Samantha is here and could help her". Samantha was wearing 1980s clothing, hosiery and sneakers (and hair and glasses, but I'm trying to be charitable) but, hey, she's a warm body and tick-tock, time's a wasting.
Ominous Sign #2: The Windstar is verifiably a piece of it's-a-family-blog. So, after filling out some preliminary paperwork, Samantha comes back (a la Igor) to bear the bad tidings that the trade-in allowance is not $2,000 as promised by my absent buddy Rich but rather $1,200 per the wholesaler. The crazy eyes reappeared, and Samantha was shaken slightly but pointed out that it was a F-o-r-d. (GMK was quick to pounce that "if I'd only vacuumed and washed it..." but then recognized that the crazy eyes could commit assault and battery and swallowed the rest of her if/then sentence). We barely had time to process this news because Samantha plunged ahead -- much like the Sand Crab when facing an irate General O.
Ominous Sign #3: My Crabdom for mocha metallic, ocean mist, or silver pearl?? They had white. dark blue. dark red. sterling. To get a light but not white vehicle would incur a transfer fee. $250 smokes for 2 dealers to exchange vehicles and paperwork. The CQ did the math and announced in a loud, stern and CRABBY voice, "We're apart $1050 clams. I don't think this is going to work for me."
Samantha suggested that we go look at the vehicles on the lot. The sterling was not as dark as Samantha had thought and I hemmed and hawed and she scuttled back inside (hoping against hope, I suspect, that ol' Crazy Eye Crab Queen would re-insert her eyes back into their sockets). She returned and announced that the manager had knocked $400 off (between sales price and taxes) because I wasn't happy about the color. What compassion. We pleasantly chatted and reviewed some lease terms (blah-blah) and she did note -- not unkindly, but because under the circumstances, I might not realize -- that they'd expect 4 matching tires at the conclusion of the lease term. (Note that the Windstar was down 2 hubcaps and had 2 pristine perelli tires on the front and heaven knows what brand on the rear at time of trade-in).
Ominous Sign #4 (a medley): Back inside, waiting-waiting-waiting. Taking all my cognitive effort to maintain composure. LLGA awakens just as Samantha comes back to finalize things. Shuffled over to finance guy, where I sign in the wrong place -- not thinking its the customer's fault that he didn't put the "x" in the right box. More time, more saying "no" to Lo-Jack and the like. He quotes me a monthly payment that is a whole $1 per month above what was previously promised. Return of the Crazy Eyes...and immediately, he changes the number to "279".
Happy Sign #1: They take credit cards! We have no balance but get 1% cash back. Cha-ching!
Ominous Sign #5: It's hot. We are waiting outside next to the van. GMK says in a whisper, "Somehow it looks better now. Did they wash it??" I shoot her the stink eye and we wait. Did I mention it's 80-degrees and we are 25-minutes from Charlie's bus time and are across town?? GMK goes in to search for Samantha when I see Samantha driving my sterling van so I go to pull open the door to flag down GMK and pull it across my toe -- blood everywhere and I can just envision Foot Infection, Part Deux.
Happy Sign #2: Because we have a lady salesguy, I ask for a band-aid so I "don't bleed all over the new car smell."
Ominous Sign #6: As I put the vehicle into drive, GMK leans over and points (think German Shorthair Pointer) to a warning light -- the air bag system light is on. A vehicle with 19 miles on the odometer. I yelp at Samantha who says they'll fix it as soon as I can get it back. But I have to race Charlie-boy to our front door.
Ominous Sign #7: LLGA whines and fusses the entire drive home. Apparently protesting the aforementioned and strong "new car smell". I'm tense because my safety features -- one of the primary reasons for the new vehicle procurement -- are not operating correctly. GMK kept repeating, oblivious to Lucy's noise, "It's such a quiet ride. I think you are well-rid of the other van."
2009 Honda Odyssey. Too briefly she graced our driveway.Sooooo, met Charlie, talked to the clinic of therapists gathered in his room at 12:30, inhaled lunch and LLGA and I returned to the Service side of the Dealership. I was nearly verklempt having spent the balance of 3-hours at the Sales side that morning.
Ominous Sign #8: The sight of greasy fix-it guys swarming my new vehicle -- leaning on the doors, climbing on the unScotch-guarded seats (as I had declined the finance guy's suggestion), and the like. The service advisor, Jason, looked pretty sympathetic. About 15-minutes later, the 12-y-o fix-it guy drove it around the block and pronounced it 'READY TO GO'.
So I reload the baby's seat, stroller, diaper bag, my tote, my purse and drive away.
Ominous Sign #9: Within 2 blocks, I realize the light is back on. So three right turns later, I present again. Jason reaches into his pocket and calls Enterprise and tells them to get me a van because (apparently I'd mentioned already) "she has 5 kids." Wearing Crazy Eyes has its advantages...fewer verbalizations are required.
Happy Sign/Ominous Sign cancel-out: Jason sent a clerk to fetch a burp cloth I'd left behind. Happy that he noticed and saved it. Ominous because it was essentially waving the white flag (it WAS white before being dropped on the oily floor). Clearly, LLGA knew we'd be back...like Gretel dropping crumbs.
Called Samantha and filled her in on the fantastic news that I was on my second repair visit in the first 2 hours of ownership. I do not think she missed the reference to the "lemon law".
Ominous Sign #10: About 15-minutes later, Enterprise wench-muffin drove up and forked over a Dodge Caravan. She was all about MY credit card and MY information and MY filling the gas tank. I was all about giving her a dose of the Crazy Eye in return. She Crazy Eyed me back and I bowed to the superior whack-job.
The automatic doors kicked my arse for about 1.5 minutes and the non-key is a little freaky and it took me 6 miles to figure out that snowflake = a/c.
Happy Sign #3: Feeling good about not getting the EX with its freaky auto-doors.
But one can understand that I'd be a little visually disoriented between the need to drive 3 different makes of van in under 5 hours AND the over-utilization of Crazy Eye required.
Good grief. Dodge Caravan of unknown vintage.
Dad is left; I am obscured by his Winningness. Visible, however, are the Dusty Rose Justin Ropers (TM) that I haaaaad to have.
