My Fancy Car Leads to Misunderstandings
Warning: First-world problems ahead.
My lifestyle is more artsy and mundane these days than glossy and tony. When we do get a splashy invite, my husband and I are that couple having their own little party, either burning up the dance floor or happily indulging in appetizers and desserts that ritzy regulars may rebuff. We are not wealthy but clean up well and have a fancy car. Sometimes our having a fancy car leads to misunderstandings that work against us.
My first nibble at the fancy car apple was late 90s. I was a single mom with a well-loved Saab. Unfortunately, while taking the cat to the vet, he slipped out the kennel and peed on the back floor. No amount of milk, soap, elbow grease, or air freshening could remove the stink. I sold the car with an up-front warning about the smell. I stand firm in my belief that instead of nukes, militaries could use cat pee as a weapon of mass destruction and the world would be a safer place.
Toy cars and dreams.
My love of cars started when I was a little girl. I looked prissy on the surface but my cousins who I learned to box with can vouch that I wasn’t. My Christmas gift requests included Hot Wheels, tracks, a Big Wheel, dump trucks, and a train set. Sci-fi convinced me that when I grew up, I would have a cute, red, flying Mustang. No power pack needed, just my awesome flying car. Obviously, that part hasn’t happened yet but when it does, I hope I am young enough to fly one. I did drive a Mustang as a late teen after I’d learned to drive on a Corvette. By then, I’d broadened my list of favorite cars, most of which were not American, but definitely fancy unicorns.
I don’t often get to check things off my car bucket list, so I enjoy them from afar. I love seeing a perfectly restored MGB or shiny MG Midget. I fan girl over a classic De Tomosa Pantera, or Jensen Healy. I could possibly be lured by a stranger (with or without candy) driving an impeccable and rare Excalibur.
It’s a wonderful life sometimes!
Being a freelance writer is not for the faint of heart. It is a mixed financial bag of lean and abundant, which is especially hard when you have champagne taste and mainly a kombucha budget. My first real fancy car happened during a few abundant years. We bought a German SUV with those three infamous letters. I named it “Betty (Beemer),” and happily checked it off my list.
Poor Betty was a target for exceptionally reckless (or mean) suburbanites. On her rear was a small indent that perfectly matched the top edge of a shopping cart. People slammed their car doors into it, even while I was sitting inside. One day, a distracted driver slammed into the back of Betty, while I was at a red light. We eventually purchased another wishlist fancy car.
My fancy car leading to misunderstandings is most apparent when we need a service provider. For the last couple years, we found ourselves sharing our roof with pigeons — the hated birds of the animal kingdom. I was a bit of a softy regarding them for several reasons: They are monogamous and keep their families together. They aren’t the harbingers of diseases that many think. So, I mistakenly thought we could coexist. I convinced my husband that we should ignore them nestled under our solar panels, as long as they didn’t interfere with the power.
Unfortunately, they were ungrateful tenants, dropping feathers and poop everywhere. They were noisy and attracted feral cats. They were also neglectful parents who allowed their eggs and babies to fall out the nests, for us to (attempt) rescue. It soon evolved into a dysfunctional one-way relationship, where only they were happy. When small mirrors and fake owls didn’t scare them away, we decided to have them humanely relocated.
The birds must go.
It had been a busy week that included selecting three companies as potential pigeon removers. On the first designated day of estimates, I couldn’t remember if I’d left the gate unlocked for the pigeon technician. I cruised by my house — of course, I had unlocked the gate. The technician pulled up as I was getting back in my fancy car. He was all smiles as he greeted me. To my surprise, that same day, I received an email with a $4,100 estimate. Wait What?!
Let’s play fair.
We made sure the other two techs did not see the fancy car — just in case. Both were reasonable quotes for removing (or shooing) 14 pigeons and their eight nests, putting up mesh, and cleaning up behind them. The last two quotes were not received on the same day like the first. Nor were they remotely close to $4,1000. The winning bid was just over $700 for the same services.
Example Two: A few years back we had a Palm tree in our front yard that became increasingly despondent about living. When I got the first estimate to take it down, Betty was in the driveway. The quote for the semi-tall, lightweight, balding, tree was at least four times higher than when Betty was in the garage. My husband ended up taking the tree down himself. Working mainly solo, it took him half the day.
Example Three: One day, I was backing out the driveway and noticed a geyser spewing from a sprinkler head. Two men from a small landscape company at a neighbor’s house came over and offered to look at it. Without hesitation or inspection, one guy cooly said they could take care of it for $2,000. Are you kidding? I called a neighbor’s referral. I made sure the car was in the garage. The sprinkler replacement and a few repairs totaled $150.
Mind your business.
When my fancy car leads to misunderstandings in business transactions, everyone loses. I lose out on a fair price and possibly great workmanship, and the business loses out on money and customer loyalty when they are not selected. Thankfully, not every small business is a price gouger. Unfortunately, some do forget everyone has something they are passionate about. What someone spends their money on is really none of their business. If customers wouldn’t be charged more for owning dozens of angel figurines or an extensive stuffed owl collection, then don’t charge a sneakerhead, or those who collect good wines, or drive a nice car, a higher price either. My message to any business is this: Most of us are like little squirrels out here in this big world, just enjoying a good nugget or two. You be nice to us and we will be nice to you.
