Daewoo

I drive a 2001 Daewoo. Daewoo is a company committed to manufacturing an array of items ranging from toasters to cars. Many people ask me a) what the fuck is a Daewoo and b) why the fuck are you driving one.

I moved to Los Angeles sans car. As a matter of fact, I had never purchased a car nor had I driven in several years. A friend of mine knew of a car rental dodge that would occasionally sell a car or two. Listen, I’m not sure how it works but I do know he took me there. I had initially become devoted to buying a car in a rational and conservative way, however, after 5 days in LA without transportation (don’t talk to me about the bus, that’s unreasonable) I became desperate. On a Saturday afternoon, David and I arrived at the rental place, and I had a short but assertive conversation with the woman behind the counter.

Me: Hello, my name is Alison Royer and I’d like to buy a car now.

Car Person: Um…

Me: You heard me.

CP: Unfortunately the man who usually sells car is out until Monday.

Me: Not interested, gimmie a car.

CP: I’m not even sure which ones are for sale.

Me: Try harder lady.

CP: I think that one’s available (as she points to the Daewoo)

Me: I’ll take it. Do you take debit?

And she did, and that’s how I bought my first car. She wasn’t lying about being ill-equipped to finish this transaction. She didn’t even have the key to the safe that held the title to my brand new (old and decrepit) Daewoo but I wasn’t gonna let that stop me. And let me tell you, this broad did everything in her power to keep me from buying that car.

Me: Seriously, give it to me.

CP: Do you want to test drive it?

Me: *blank stare*

CP: Would you like to start a payment plan?

Me: You want me to mail you 50 cents a month for a year lady?

This is when Mimi got involved. The awkward car person continued to pepper me with a slew of ridiculous questions that I did not understand so eventually I just called my mother and handed the woman my phone.

At the end of our transaction, I entered my pin number and drove off with a brand new (10 yr old) Daewoo that I could smoke in although nothing could eradicate the smell of oppression and failure that already lingered. It reminded me of every other memory from my adult life.

I love my car. It was cheap, it makes me happy, and when pregnant women back into it (happened) I don’t mind at all.