Oh, thank God…

So yesterday I established, with ample evidence, that phones make it hard for me to make words happen good. Here, as promised, is the second phone based excursion I took myself on yesterday. Please, pray on my discomfort. Voyeurs.

The Scenario: I wanted to test drive a car. I bought one in December from a little tiny baby private used car….place. It was a Corolla and I loved it a little bit more than a human should actually a love a piece of machinery. It’s now in Corolla Heaven, thanks to a desire for pancakes and a badly timed left turn, so I find myself in the market for a ride. Again. Recently, I drove by the place where I had bought the Corolla to see if they had any more deals and, lo and behold, there was a Toyota Tercel for under 2 grand! So. It was time for me to schedule a test drive.

When no one picked up, I was transferred to voicemail. Perfect! A golden opportunity to make up for my less than suave phone based excursion earlier. However, my brain sensed danger from the get-go and bailed before “Leave a message.”

The phone call (Note: Italics indicate internal monologue):
Hey, JR, it’s Amie. (Oh, very smooth!) I spoke to you, erm, sometime around the beginning of this month about, um, needing a new car? Whereas my Corolla was in an accident? (Okay, less smooth, but… still coherent! Keep up the good work!) So I, uh, noticed the Tercel you’ve got for sale, and I was wondering if maybe I could come by tomorrow and test drive it? (Right, because his voicemail is going to say, “Oh yes, that would be lovely, and afterward you can stay for tea!”) I’ve got to work in until mid-afternoon, so I can come over some time betweeeeeeeeen……. (Think faster, think faster!) 3:30 and 4. If that’s okay. So. If you could give me a call whenever you get a chance, that would be really great, thank you! (*Realizing the man doesn’t have me on speed dial…*) My number is [wouldn't you like to know]. Okay! Thank you! (Stop talking. Now. Hang up immediately.)

I snapped the phone shut before I could do any further damage, found my brain which was in the kitchen, snacking on some cheese and crackers, and shoved it back into my head. That wasn’t so bad, I thought. In fact, I’d say it was pretty good! Maybe I should see about getting my job back at the Mercedes place.

…

Or not.

Daily Photo:

My brother’s car, which I’ve been driving since my accident. You can see why the situation is dire.