5:39 p.m. - Saturday, Jan. 14, 2006
MsLeslie Get Her Purple Pickup Truck!
I�ve never named a vehicle before. That seems a bit strange for me, because I definitely form relationships with my cars. My poor old Chevy van, which carried me all around the country, protecting me from traffic and the world, was so dear to me I could not bring myself to sell her. I gave her instead to strangers who found more use for her, and to whom she has brought a great deal of happiness.
The old Lincoln Town Car that replaced my van has known me only as a woman. Her burgundy and white leather seats have been a great comfort to me as I�ve run her up beyond 110,000 miles.
So, when a friend asked me what I would name my new truck, I was a bit non-plussed. I had never thought about it before, and as I did think about it, I found myself feeling a little anxious. I think that may be because it�s already so hard for me to lose a relationship.. even with a machine� that the idea of letting that machine have a name might make it unbearable. I thought I would not give my new truck a name.
But now I�m thinking it over. In many ways, I have not changed in the last couple of years. I still prefer to own nothing if I can�t own things that are special to me and bring me joy. And this truck is special. I�ve waited and saved a long time for her, and worried myself nearly to death over how I would find her and negotiate the dreaded car-buying experience.
On Thursday, I did find her. I made it to the GSA auto auction in Lafayette, LA in time to walk the lot, looking at the dozens of trucks that were about to be auctioned off. For the previous week, I had been pretty intolerable for THS, resisting his every suggestion about how and where to find a truck, but suddenly, as I stood surrounded by acres of wheels, fenders and hoods, I was glad he had come with me to the auction. I am not good at choices. The sheer number of options before me overwhelmed me and made me truly unable to evaluate any single truck. THS, on the other hand, ran gleefully from truck to truck, opening hoods, kicking tires, and whatever it is that guys do to satisfy themselves about a vehicle. I was literally in a daze. He did try to show me a few and get my opinion, but my only opinion seemed to be �sure, that one looks nice�. Inside, I�m afraid I was starting to panic. I could not choose.
When the auction began, there was a large crowd of bidders. Auto auctions, I�ve learned, are exciting events. We all stood under the roof of a large drive through garage. To one side was a raised desk or counter behind which stood the auctioneer, surrounded by clerks and spotters, who would help spot bidders when they signaled a bid. Beyond that, there was an area where hot dogs could be bought, or ice cream & Cokes.
The crowd grew until it spilled out of the doors and lined up on either side of the column of cars and trucks which would be driven before the auctioneer one at a time and sold to the highest bidder. The very first vehicles were not trucks at all, but cars, in which I had zero interest. I watched with a sense of awe as the auctioneer fired off a steady stream of gibberish intermixed with the occasional price or comment. My ears could not possibly keep up with this and so I was surprised each time I heard him call �sold!� and saw the car drive away. I was still feeling that awe and confusion when the first trucks came up for bid. Nothing changed. I was still just as surprised when the man called �sold�, and confused as to how much the actual price had been.
There came more cars, and then a few more trucks. I eventually settled down a little bit and was able to make some sense of what was happening around me, but I still had not gotten in a single bid.
Finally, there came before the block, a 1998 Dodge Ram. Even though it was a little older, it was like new. It had the extended cab, a long bed, and a huge V8 engine. The seats were bucket, with an interior that was as comfortable as a truck can be. But best of all.. it was a deep, deep, glossy purple.
�OK, Baby�, I head THS say. �Get serious about this one�.
In my state, I guess that was all I needed. I barely saw the truck as I positioned myself to give the spotters a better view. When the bidding opened, I was already starting to wave my hand, but THS stopped me.
�Wait�, he said.
The auctioneer was still trying to get an opening bid. Occasionally, I could hear him name a different, lower price. When he came down to six thousand, my hanbd twitched again.
�Wait Baby�
And then it went under six, down to fifty five hundred. I felt I would gladly pay that price, and so I began to raise my hand.
�Waaaaiiittt�.�
And when it dipped to fifty two, someone else made a bid. The price then went almost immediately back into the six thousand dollar range. THS made me wait until several bidders had dropped out, then he let me go.
When I made my first bid, I didn�t know it, but THS had signaled a spotter to alert him of my bid. I don�t� actually know what my bid was, but I do know that I was almost immediately outbid, as I saw the spotter turn back to me with questioning eyes. At this challenge from another bidder, something else kicked in behind my eyeballs� the desire to win. Without even knowing the bid, I nodded and pointed at the spotter. He turned to the other bidder, the auctioneer jabbered on, and then the spotter came back to me. I repeated my gesture without thought.
This little game went back and forth several times. I still wasn�t listening, just bidding, but I did notice that the last two times, it seemed as if we might be waiting an extra heartbeat for the other bidder. Then, everything seemed to just stop and hang in mid-air as I heard the auctioneer saying �I have seven, do I hear seventy one?� I wanted to bid, but the spotter was not looking at me. I was afraid I was going to lose this because no one was paying attention to MsLeslie. But then, the auctioneer looked straight at me and said �SOLD for seven thousand� And then, looking at the yellow sticker on my right breast, he said �Number One Forty-Two�
When I realized I had won, I guess I must have let out a little squeal. I hugged THS and said, �I bought a purple one!� He gave me a kiss and then led me away as the crowd laughed and applauded. Even the auctioneer told me congratulations over his loudspeaker.
Well, I had to be led through the process of filling out the forms and paying for the truck, but within a few moments, I was sitting in the truck I�ve been searching for and realizing, for the first time, really, that I had just bought the exact truck that was right for me.
So yes, I�m going to name her.. and she IS a she. I�m told that no respectable man would be seen in a purple pickup truck, and she appears to be, like me, a strong woman, but a woman nonetheless. I�m going to name her, and I will allow myself to grieve when we eventually part, but in the meantime, I�m going to love my truck with all my truck-lovin� heart.
So her name? Well, I am open to suggestions.
Happy Thoughts, Deep Breaths
MsL
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