It Is Done

We went into Philly for Rosh Hashanah - and a Happy New Year to you all - and left with a car. The plan was to go test drive and see what we think. Nilda was very adamant that there would be no purchase this weekend. Of course, this is the same person who got totally caught up in the crappy time share presentation in Cabo. Brian really dodged a bullet on that one.

We brought my dad along so we'd have a grown up. It was great to have him, mostly so that whatever we did had dad's seal of approval. Even if he didn't like it, he was there so he was still responsible. Thanks, Dad, for squeezing into those tiny backseats and listening to Len the car salesmen and his never ending diatribes about the history of the Jewish people in Northeast Philadelphia.

We first test drove the Honda Fit, which was the car Nilda was excited about. That lasted about two seconds into the test drive, when Nilda shook her head no and said "mmm-mmm," which was fine with me. We then drove the Civic, which Nilda liked more than either of us thought she would. But then we drove the Mazda3 and we realized that we were right about our first chioce. As my dad said, suddenly "Ms. Not Today" was calling for insurance quotes. Nilda, of course, maintained her poker face, only saying how much she liked it when the dealer wasn't looking at her. Way to go, Nilda.

It's a Mazda3 i Touring, shiny black with black interior. We've already set up the bluetooth for our phones and know how we'll hook up the ipod. This is my first car and it is AWESOME! Though there was a moment today where I realized holy shit I now have a car and how the hell did that happen. I don't need a car, I live in New York! Too late now, sucka.

Nilda and I have discussed what we will call the car. You can't give it a name like Earl or Kit, since that's just weird (though Nilda advised me right off the bat that "Captain Phil" will not fly). I say we should call the car "the car" (no capitals). Growing up, we had the Camry, the Bonneville and the Horizon. We had The Heller Mobile, too, either the worst or most awesome station wagon ever created, but that's a different blog post. Since we only have one car, it doesn't make sense to identify it by brand.

Finally, I'd like to thank New Jersey Transit, for shuttling me to and from Philadelphia all these years. But now you and your no round trip tickets during peak hours policy can go fuck yourselves.