You can't always get what you want..

But, in the immortal words of Mick Jagger and Keith Richards, 'you get what you need'. Yes indeed. And sometimes what you need is pretty all right. I got this...

And I'm quite happy with it. And no, I never pictured myself in a minivan. And never in this color. And it sure aint new. BUT, I love the minivan (who knew?), I love all the space, the super power steering, and the blasting heat and AC, and I adore the color. Plus, it was a steal and it's good, without so much as a tiny scratch and the inside is comfy cloth and very clean. As someone on the blog recommended, I parked the sucker's nose end RIGHT under my mother's living room window. Ha ha ha ha ha.

NOW, you have to hear the fucked up story (and why I have not given up on the Caddy). First I went to my bank, and yeah, they were happy to give me a loan, as long as I had a co-signer. Sigh. The reason they told me I needed a co-signer that banked there, was my credit is bad. They said my credit is bad because they looked back 20 years and I have never had an outstanding debt. Whut? Yeah, I don't use credit cards and I don't borrow money. Hmm. Well, okay, then, I was trying to figure out which of my two best friends to ask when my mother offered. I told her, no thanks, you always try to take over. She swore she wouldn't and wanted to do something nice to make up to me for the awful financial things she's done to me. I am retarded, as we all know, and I said, okay, if you promise! Besides, though I have two friends here who would have gladly done it for me, I HATE asking friends for something like that. My mother is not my friend, so...hey, maybe she meant it this time. See? I AM retarded.

The bank loan officer, a woman I will call Dumb Twat (DT for short) called the wrong number to tell me my loan was approved. She skipped a line and called my mother's number. My mother promptly took it upon herself to pretend she was me! Yep. I do not know what kind of foolishness she told DT, but, it must have been hilarious (to anyone not involved). The old lady comes over here, telling me I got the loan and how clever she was to fool DT into thinking she was me, because I wasn't home. Umm, where was I then, cunt, since I had no wheels?? Oh, shit and hell in a hand basket! I called DT and told her she was speaking to the real me and not my mother. She said, "Oh, I figured that out, your mom is so darn cute! That Tuwella is a card, she always has us here at the bank laughing!" I said, umm, DT, you didn't happen to give her things like my income, did you? She laughed and said, 'well, she is your mother and there are no secrets between mothers and daughters, I ought to know, ha ha ha. Oh, and she is the co-signer. So, Pat, have you found a car yet?' And I said, no and I think I've changed my mind about the loan and I hung up. Screwed again..plus, my rent is now going to go up significantly on a property that I joint own. Nice, huu?

I am, at this point, feeling mad, alone and screwed again. And not in a good way. I sat there mad for a few hours when Tuwella (I can not call her mom at this point) came in and asked what my dog gone problem was? She 'made it up to me' by calling a friend of her's son to come take me to the biggest car lot in town. She couldn't remember his name, but, he is a lovely boy. She also said, this 'son' was really good looking, single, and he knows me from my prison days. Fucking fine. Let him come. But, I am not going to give him head on the test drive or marry him. But, if he knew me from prison, then we were probably friends, I got along with all the cool officers out there (the bosses sucked).  Besides, my friends were at work and the one cab in town is driven by an old lady who takes her RA swims in the afternoon, it was senior swim day. ~Fucking eye roll from hell~ Let's get this shit show on the road.

I heard him honk and by the time I got my coat and mittens on and grabbed my purse, the old bitch was sitting right next to him in the car! What? I opened the door and said, you're not going! She said, I certainly am, you need me. I do not need her, but, what was I supposed to do, punch her in front of a peace officer? I got in the back and we formally met. Yeah, he knew me from prison, but, not because he's an officer..you guessed it. He was a prisoner assigned to my therapy program. For fuck's sake. The one truth the old bitch told was that he was, indeed, good looking. In a scary way. Okay, fuck it. In a scary way I like. Shoot me. He was nice and he did me a favor, I have no problem with the dude. I did ask him if he was wanted and he laughed and said, no, parole, but, too bad because he looks great on wanted posters. Good looking and funny. Yep. So far, so good.

I told Mr. Parole he could drop us off, the senior swim would be over soon. He offered to stay and help, but, as much as he meant it and I appreciated the offer, I really wanted to just do my own thing. I told my mother she was to sit in the waiting room, have some coffee and not speak. Not one fucking word. She did. But, not exactly. She felt free to talk to herself out loud. She sat in the biggest chair they had and kept swinging her tiny troll feet back and forth in the air saying, 'Look how little I am, I am soooo little!' I guess width is not considered in the word 'petite'. She sounded like a complete loony. Smacking her lips so loud you could hear them in the salesman's office and saying shit like, "Oh boy, this sure is good coffee, I'd work here just for the coffee! I like that new red sports car, put a bow on that for me! Yippie yahoo!" He asked if she was all right out there alone? I shook my head and told him to ignore her.

Then we got down to brass tacks. I told him I was comfortable with a price of 5-7 thousand. He told me I couldn't get much for that. I said, well, I just got a whole house for $1,200 so let me see what you've got. I was tired of him already. He showed me a bus sized van, I said no. He showed me a VW beetle..convertable. This is Iowa. No. He showed me a Pontiac Aztec and I loved it. Long story short, it was more than I wanted to spend, but, nice and he said he could work with me. I told him my credit sucks. He said, he's already called my bank who said they'd loan me, but, for unknown reasons I wanted private financing. He said that told him all he needed to know. I thought, I was wrong, what a great guy. I said, let's do it. He said he'd need a good faith deposit and he'd finance. I said, of course. He asked me what I was comfortable with. I told him I was fixing up a house and need it to be small..if possible. I offered $500 to start. Figured he'd up the anty. That's how the game is played, right? He didn't. He said, if I had cash, we had a deal. I gave him my money and he shook my hand. I went home to get all my paperwork done. Taking little miss Looney Tunes with me. I had a car, a nice one!

He even offered me a ride home instead of letting me call a cab. So nice. THEN, we pulled up out front of this property and he said, 'You live here??' Yep, I laughed, welcome to Guntown. He had no smarmy smile now. He looked around the hood and said, REALLY snotty, "I can see that." The next day he called me and said he'd 'poured' over his books and he'd need another grand in 'good faith'. I said, we shook hands. He said, I'm really sorry, I made a mistake. I said, yeah? So did I. Then he said, if I wanted to I could come in and get my money. Really? No shit? IF I want to? IF? You fuckin' right I will. And I did. Though the smarmy bastard gave it back to me by check! Check from his snot ball company. I had handed him cash. I don't know where he's from, but, in Guntown, we don't go back on our word once it's given and hands are shaken. If the little douchelord wanted a grand, he should have said so upfront. I was pissed. Really fucking pissed. On the way out, I spotted a photo of Janis Joplin on her Porshe. I picked it up and said, hey, you don't mind if I take this as a 'good faith' offering, do you? He scowled at me and I tucked the photo under my arm, said, have a nice day and left. I still have the pic. Imma hang it in my new house.

Nice frame on it. There it is, wallpaper size if any of you want it.


And so...there I was, wheel less, out of options and pissed off. Then something so strange happened. So very strange. The phone rang and it was from the place that has that Caddy I loved so much. The guy asked me if I was the lady that liked it and I shouted 'Yes!' He said, I'm so sorry, but, my younger assistant is new and he's a great guy, but, he didn't understand how we finance here. I can finance you, Pat. I said, I'll be out in the morning. This time I called Alissa's Uncle Junior on her adopted dad's side (his day off) and he came and took me out there. We tried every way we could think of to get that Caddy half financed and not one bank in the state will do it. They simply hate used Cadillacs, they consider them a bad bet. Too many problems, too little experts. I know he told me the truth too, because he let me pull up a chair and watch on the computer. The dude had no hidden agenda. So, painfully, I gave it up and we looked at all my options. I told him the deal about the house and how I needed it fixed up. Lissa was with me, she was a real pain in the ass. He dealt with her like nobody I've ever seen. Anyhow, then he got a brainstorm. He said, Pat, I just got this cute Ford Windstar in and we already checked it out, it's mechanically sound, it's still dirty, but, if you want to look at it...? I said, yeah, let me see it. Turned out I loved it. Never expected that. Plus, he fanagled the numbers in front of me and said, if you can find a way to put one grand down, I can let you have it for 3 grand..total. I was sitting right there beside him and I saw the numbers, I said, 'Dude, you'd only be making like $200 bucks from it, that aint right.' He said, 'Yeah, but, I don't need that car, I didn't pay any extra for shipping since it came in with a bunch of others and you're single and raising a kid. My mom was a single mom.' I about fell over, he was so nice. He found me the best deal, and handed me the keys. I just looked at him, like what about paperwork? He said, aww, you don't need to be walking in this shit. Take it and bring your papers back in the morning and I'll change the oil and detail it out. I felt like kissing his feet. But, you know Alissa. She bitched and moaned about not getting the Caddy and she hated the color and bla bla. I was so tired and embarrassed. Then she pulled the show stopper and said, "I'd rather walk than ride in that stupid fucker!" So, he goes and gets her a pair of work gloves, tosses them at her head, and says, 'You'd better put these on, it's a long fucking walk back home, little girl." I almost died laughing. And she ended up hugging him goodbye and telling him the color wasn't THAT bad.

Now, after all this long winded shit, you'd think that would be the end, right. Nope. When I went back with papers to get it detailed, I had to wait, of course. That's when he saw the last of my reference pages and he said, 'Hey, you know Casey Jones?" And I said, yeah. He started talking about what a great girl she is and how fun she was in high school and then he asked me, did you know her brother, Eric? I said, dude, did you not notice my maiden name on the paper? Yeah, they're my kids, I'm their mother. His mouth fell open and he said, YOU ARE! I said, you know Eric? 'Fuck YES!' I pointed at the guitar in the corner of his office and asked, you play? He said, sort of, but, here..let me show you. So, he hands me the guitar and on a small plaque it says, "In memory of Eric Harbin, a great friend and a great guitar player." Are you kidding me? So, instead of reading the book I'd brought to wait with, I spent two hours with him, swapping guitar licks, listening to videos and hearing crazy stories about my kid. It was freekin' awesome. I had the best time, it reminded me of times I've spent with Eric. I still owe him a couple of hundred he let me slide on, so I'm going out there again Monday and I'm bringing him some stuff I know Eric would like for him to have. It's a small world, isn't it?

PS, I told him I wasn't giving up my Windstar, but, I am not giving up on that old Caddy either. He said we will make that happen. He didn't know how, but, he said, we would. Oh, and I almost forgot one of the best parts. He took my check from the snotty company as part of my down. I told him I knew he shouldn't, but, it sure would tickle me if they got it back cashed by HIM.