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So, is the golden retriever included?

And I guess I should look into getting a couple tow-headed children to throw into the backseat of my Volvo. Yes, that's "my" Volvo, although it's Oz who came up with the money. Big maroon wagon, tan leather interior that matches my purse. Elegantly aged and meticulously maintained. (The car, that is. The purse is a little worn.)

I needed to replace the Nissan Sentra that was destroyed in the accident, and in the interests of not spending my settlement before I got it, we opted to get a used car. Let me just say, ads are not the way to go when shopping for previously owned vehicles.

After one disappointment and some consideration of how I sold my Toyota a few years ago, I suggest, "Let's drive around the Fan and look for cars with 'For Sale' signs in the windows." It's a lovely day for a drive. Besides, the Fan district has a rather well-off and transient population, including lots of retrievers and tow-headed children. Prime territory for high-end used vehicles.

Bingo.

"It's awfully maroon," Oz observes.

"It won't crumple the next time someone runs a stop sign and hits me," I point out as I write down the phone number on the For Sale sign.

208 words | October 5, 2004 06:44 PM | Miss Trauma