I Sold the Car!!!!!

Terry Pratchett says if you use 5 exclamation marks it’s a sure sign you’re insane. I’ve never felt saner either, which is probably another symptom of insanity.

It took literally – and I use that term literally – 15 minutes from the time I listed it on a website provided by my personal and ever-merciful god, and the website guy called and made me an offer, and I called TOG who gave his blessing (with the enthusiasm Marie Antoinette skipped up the steps to the guillotine), and I called the guy back and accepted. He picks it up today.

Part of our subsequent text conversations:

ME:  So, the deal is done. The guy will pick the car up tomorrow.

TOG:  Is the guy A.M.?

ME :   Why, yes it is.

WISIMH:  WT bloody F?  You’ve known about this guy all along and could have thrown me this bone months, nay, even years ago? I probably should have consulted with the garden gnome about resolving this matter. I would probably have received better advice.

TOG:  Don’t give him the shop manual autographed by Donald Healey.

ME:    Too late. That was one of the pics I sent and narrative included it with car. It’s part of the deal.

TOG:  Be sure to remove license tag. That’s a personalized CA plate with my HAM radio call sign.

WISIMH:  Which you’ll put in another of the unpacked boxes in your closet? Why the hell not? Is this more last-minute crap you’re assigning me just to make me miserable? Do you have a list? Are there still obstacles you’re going to impose between me and getting this piece of shit out of the carport? What the hell is a rhetorical question?

ME:    Tried. (And I really did try.) Can’t. Too dark. I only have one wrench and need two: one to hold the nut on front and one to hold the bolt on back. (Or maybe the other way around, how the hell do I know?)

TOG:  Might be able to use slotted screwdriver.

ME:    Actually, according to me, and the flashlight, and the single wrench I have, there is no slotted screw. So, no.

WISIMH:  And thanks for the timely advice about the screwdriver and for taking the good wrenches when you moved to leave in the carton where I packed them where you’ll never use them. I'll take them back when I deliver the license tag so you'll have room in the box to store the license plate.

TOG:  And look in trunk. Who knows what might be in there.

WISIMH:  Gold doubloons, maybe? How about a shrink ray gun? Maybe you put the jam in there. You know, not the jam from yesterday, not the jam for tomorrow, but the jam that we will never have today.

ME:   Can’t access trunk. Key won’t turn lock to open. (And I really went back out and tried, more fool me.)

TOG:  Just turn knob and pull hard. It sticks.

ME:    Maybe tomorrow in the daylight when I don’t have to worry about lurking black widow spiders and I don’t smell like Liquid Wrench, which by the way, makes the dust from the dust cover stick to me like feathers to tar. It’s a charming way to spend happy hour. My red wine has a delicate WD40-like finish.

TOG: There might still be things in the side pockets or clove compartment or trunk…

ME:   (Crickets)

WISIMH:  You ever watch Futurama?  There’s a character named Kif, the amphibian alien officer on the Nimbus, commanded by clueless jerk Zapp Brannigan. When Zapp delivers some stupid/dangerous command, Kif makes this sigh that encapsulates his Sisyphean exhaustion and existential despair at the futility of living a meaningful life in a universe where everyone is mad as a hatter or a hoarder with late onset passive aggression. I can only aspire to emulate that sigh, although I’m trying very hard right now. The degree of denial and delusion TOG suffers from always ceases to amaze me.

Then, before saying good night last night, this:

TOG:  Even with restoration of $20k on top of the $15k a tidy profit can still be made. And it is not going to cost any $20k to restore.

ME:   Gee, really? Wish we’d thought of that a few years ago.

TOG:  I did. That’s why I kept it. The restoration could take place anytime and the longer I waited the more the finished product would be worth. Now you do appreciate that a $7k car in rusty condition is worth $15k to someone.

WISIMH:   AAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH! THAT'S why you kept it? Give it a fucking rest. My to do list for after the car is towed away is to put away the ax and clean up the blood. I will then go out to lunch and order a Bloody Mary and a shrimp cocktail.

ME:  I’ve always appreciated it. I just with you’d taken initiative to sell it when it was restored. Or to have it restored again.

TOG: (Crickets).