A Woman Does Not Need a Jeep Like This…

Since the end of last summer, I had driven past the “Slimer” weekly. He had been sitting out front of a local car dealership for months, and after several discussions with the Hubs, I decided to go pick him up.

“Slimer” was a lime-green, jacked-up, 4×4 CJ5 — custom fit with KC Lights, roll cage, and Warn wench.

You see, Papa Mike taught me at a very early age, that there was nothing quite like the joy of a Jeep CJ. From locking the hubs, to mud in your hair, a Jeep CJ mud-riding experience is hard to beat.

I pulled into the lot, parked near the front door, and walked over to “Slimer”. I have purchased my fair share of vehicles [some chalked up to “challenging driving”, and some to boredom], and the salesmen have always come over to us, and offered to share their expertise. Not this time…

I didn’t think much of it then. It was hot, and I sure as heck wouldn’t want to be standing outside with some rando, chatting over an old CJ5. Benefit of the doubt, and debit card in hand, I walked inside the dealership.

I waited by the front door for assistance, but no one came. Awkwardly, I went to the closest office, and asked the lady for help. She smiled, nodded, and quickly paged a salesman.

The salesman came right over, and asked how he could help. I explained that “Slimer” was the reason for my visit, and that I would like to take him for a test drive. The salesman shifted his weight, smiled, and asked “Are you married?”. Not thinking much of it, I smiled and answered “Yes.”. His smile got much warmer, and he said “Wonderful!! Let’s wait for your husband to arrive, and he can take the Jeep for a spin.”.

**insert amused, resting b*tch face**

“My husband is not coming, the Jeep is for me.”. The salesman smiled, again, and said he would need to go find a manager. A few minutes later, the manager returned, with a friendly smile, and said the exact — same — thing.

**insert unamused, resting b*tch face**

“Uh-Huh… Please ask the General Manager, or Owner, permission for me to test drive the Jeep.”. The manager turned, and walked to the row of offices along the back wall. After fifteen minutes, I realized this could take a while.

As I was in limbo, wondering whether to sit or stand, the friendly woman that helped upon my arrival, walked over. She offered me a water, and asked if I would like to sit down. I smiled, shook my head no to the water, and pleaded with her to help them understand… “I know about Jeeps, and will be paying cash, today.”.

Finally, the Owner gently shook the keys in my direction, smiled, and nodded for me to follow him. Excitement began to take over, as we walked right up to “Slimer’s” driver-side door. He opened the door, and as I began to hop-up, he did — right into the driver’s seat.

Bewildered, I told him that I wanted to drive the Jeep before making the purchase, and he looked me dead in the eyes, and said “A woman does not need a Jeep like this — this is a man’s weekend toy. Get in, and I will drive you around. If you decide to move forward with the purchase, I will need to speak to your husband.”.

Y’all…

Y’ALL!!

Y’ALLLLLLLLLLLL!!!! I-LOST-IT!!

I stormed to my car, drove off the lot, and immediately called the Hubs. He giggled at first [mistake!!], then quickly realized how much the experience hurt me, and went straight into comfort mode.

As I was venting, and the Hubs was moving towards protective mode, my call-waiting beeped in — it was the dealership. UGH!! I dismissed the call. Two minutes later, my call-waiting beeped in again— it was the dealership, again.

Now I don’t know how quickly each of you move to “angry”, but upon the second call from the dealership, I brushed the edge of the dangerous, “angry atmosphere”.

The Hubs was making his best effort not to “fix” my challenge, but to listen, and stay on the sidelines — after all, I am a forty-something year old business woman. Then, a slight “blip” in our conversation. I paused, and he told me to keep going, that he was not answering a call during his time with me.

Grateful for his empathy, I continued listing my frustrations, and ultimately, my hurt. There it was again… that slight “blip” in our conversation. Two times in a row, back to back, is enough to make any parent’s heart skip a beat. He asked for me to hold on, and he bounced to the incoming call.

After a minute or so, he bounced back to our call, sighed heavily, and began to explain that it was the dealership. They had taken the copy of my driver’s license, ran a search to locate who I was married to, found his personal cell number, and called him to begin negotiations on “Slimer” — my “Slimer”.

Being the amazing Hubs that he is, he chuckled at them, and quasi quoted Julia Roberts in “Pretty Woman” — “Big mistake!! Big!! HUGE!! The wife has to go shopping now…”.