Car Shopping Sucks

Today i ventured forth into the world known as Beaverton; in particular, Car Dealerships, with faithful Amanda, my friend who is in possession of two things specific to this voyage that I am at a loss for:
1. money
and
2. a trade in.
I was tagging along for fact-finding purposes, as my current car (the volvo 164, as pictured above only much more decrepit and a different color) is incapable of taking me to my suburban teaching engagements, and thus forces me to beg from friends with working vehicles.
Nobody likes to beg, and so here we are. In Beaverton thinking "i check my email from a neighbor's broken-down car to get a wifi signal because i can't afford internet at my own house.... and now i'm going to try and get a car loan.... alright."
I would like to mention the state of repair that the Volvo is in. Before work yesterday, I was eating raisin bran and listening to the radio. I could hear the cackles of Click and Clack over the sound of my chewing, and I serendipitously heard a woman caller describe the same problem that my car has been diagnosed with.
"It sounds like an amorous donkey" she said. more chuckling, she described said donkey noise (and how she came to have this in her mental catalog) and received the response that it was most definitely a ball joint, and , pay attention here in particular: "You Need to Get That Fixed , And Fast Lady, Because If That Goes Out, You're A GONER!" ha ha ha ha ha! (that's the trademark hysterical laughter of car talk).
so. i'm a goner. I got into my car and went to work, hoping that Beija as a talisman would keep me safe and lucky. Sorry Beija.
my friends have never described my car as an Amorous Donkey, but it has been called a Creaky Bedspring.
I went with Amanda to a Subaru dealership today, where she couldn't help but explode with her favorite joke upon meeting our salesman: "We're a couple of cheap lesbians looking to find a Subaru. I'll bet you don't see that every day,,,, Ha!" oh brother. The Salesman, Doug, who pranced towards us down the aisle, knocking on a car and kicking up his heels as he approached, realized we were yucksters and decided that though this joke tapped into his PC reservoir of patience ("I mean, You Both Seem Like REALLY NICE PEOPLE") , we were an opportune couple of lesbians to try his latest gags on. He was of course thinking all this as He gave an uncomfortable laugh and sat me down in a dirty old subaru, bragging that it had a tape player "for me".
as an after-thought, Fuck Him. Fuck that Guy. He literally was trying to sell me on the fact that it had a TAPE PLAYER. do i own an i-pod or other mp3 player? no. do i listen to tapes in my car? yes! HOWEVER, who is he to assume this about me? he should be APOLOGIZING that it's so out of date. anyway.
"Doug" sat himself in the back and we went into the harsh sunlight of TV Highway, him using a really bad fake gay man voice to describe things as he chuckled to himself about what a card he must be. "Oh Thathhh Grrrreeattt!" (<- gay voice). "Ith really nithe". He led us literally through woods and up winding roads before we found ourselves in another used car lot , this one complete with fresh balloons bobbing from antennas of overpriced wagons way out of my league.
Thanks Doug.
I haven't written, i don't know how, how intensely annoying this guy's sense of humor was. It was sort of a combination of a Krusty the Clown Laugh, a Crystal Meth addiction, and a Used Car Salesman Radio Commercial all wrapped up in a goateed , berkenstock boot wearing package. this was my salesman.
as he drove us back into the original subaru lot, he decided to rev the engine really fast, and drive straight at the attendant who stood in the driveway. "Hey Miguel, didn't know you could jump that fast! HEYYOOO!! " he'd only moments before narrowly missed a woman with a baby carriage trying to cross the street as he pulled an illegal right turn : "Jeez, thanks for the Stink Eye, Lady." HEH HEH! (<-- krusty laugh)
i did not buy a car from doug.
out of spite.
Amanda and I went to another dealership, took a test drive, and then called it a day over greasy Panda Express.

p.s. should i have called this "Uthed Car Shopping Thuckthhh!"