Unstructions

I am currently sitting in a cushy black office chair on the sidewalk outside of a small auto dealership in South Portland, Maine.  I can hear what is probably a Boeing 757 making its final descent into Portland Jetport, and can smell the tantalizing aroma of french fries and fresh pizza from the shop next door.  Why am I here?  I'm buying a van.  Well, I'm hoping to buy a van.  I think.  Am I?

Remember what I said Wednesday about being a camp spouse?

I get nervous when I'm asked to do adult-ish sorts of things, such as my present task.  I'm a terrible negotiator, respond poorly to confrontation, have trouble changing my wiper blades, and know next to nothing about automotive standards.  As a child, I probably didn't even like to haggle for a later bedtime.  I am clearly the least qualified person who could have been sent on a quest to purchase a used 15-passenger van for our organization.  But in this business, if you have an upturned beach umbrella and a paddle, you might find yourself suddenly sailing around the world for a camper flying into Cape Town.  It's spontaneous at best and unpredictable at worst.  And a whole lot of fun.

So as I sit here and awkwardly survey the sales lot, I am mentally considering purchasing a black 2003 Lincoln Town Car limousine.  You see, I'm also currently in possession of a camp credit card (Dollar Tree shopping spree!!), and there are some vehicles that are starting to look a lot more appealing to me than the white 15-passenger shuttle van that is staring me down from the handicapped spot.  Actually, it's an 11-passenger van.  The reason I'm sunbathing on the pavement is because an employee is running down the back seat that someone thought was irrelevant.  So it's an 11-passenger van disguised as a 15-passenger van.

But no, Mr. Used Car Salesman, you can't pull that trick on me; you'll have to work a little harder.  However, this does make me wonder at how gullible I appear at first glance.  I can just see them in the back room... "Maybe she'll never notice.  Let's take the gas cap, too."

I can't blame them.  Without clear guidance, I'd probably ride an elephant off the lot.

And be happy about it.  I like to call myself a good "life spectator".  Calling it "observing" would imply that I pay attention, and we all know that would be just too much.