My youngest son finally got his first car! He will be 22 in January, so you can see how much this thrills me that I don't have to take him everywhere he needs to go.
So this was our adventure on picking up the new ride.
First, Google Maps lies.
I knew pretty much where we were going, but then the road ended without being at the correct address. This is a problem. A ten minute trip took us about 30, but we finally found the house, and the people who were waiting on us for the big sale.
The transaction went smoothly. He is now the proud owner of a $600.00 1985 Honda Prelude that looks like a junk yard put together piece of crap. Considering this is exactly what he wanted, I am pleased.
We are informed that there might be about 2 tablespoons of gas in the tank, so make your first trip to the gas station.
This isn't a problem, except I don't drive in that area of town very often, and am not sure where to get gas. He's driving in front of me in case he gets lost. I know, I know, it should be the other way around, shouldn't it? This is where our trouble begins.
I decide that Coburg Road will work just fine, and all we have to do is take a left when we get to the stop lights. I turn on my left turn signal in hopes that he is paying attention, and he takes a right. (He isn't familiar with this end of town either.)
I know there aren't any gas stations out this way, but I don't want to freak him out and call while he's driving, since he's a rookie driver. He finally figures out that we're pretty much driving out somewhere in East Jesus, and takes a side street to stop.
I figure we're pretty much out far enough, that we might be close to a Home Depot, which has a gas station in front of it. I'll go first, since he's completely turned around, and he can follow me. We're doing okay. A couple miles down the road, he's there, and then he isn't. Find a place to pull over and give him a call on the ol' cellphone. He's all "the car was making funny noises and glurging. I think I'm out of gas." Super! As we are having this conversation, I see a motorcycle cop drive by. The pit of my stomach drops a bit. See, the part I haven't told you yet is; HE DOESN'T HAVE A DRIVERS LICENSE, OR INSURANCE. Yes my friends, he went about this a bit backwards, but who am I to complain?
Anyways, I turn around, and head back to him, and who is parked directly across the street from his now broke down car? Why yes, it Mr. Police Officer with a radar gun. I almost cried.
I finally found a place to turn myself around again, and pull in behind him. Trying to be inconspicuous as possible, I hunch down in my seat waving like a crazy woman for him to get in my car RIGHT NOW. He's trying to be all casual. Nothing wrong here, lalalala...
After a few deep breaths, I'm able to pull back into traffic and head off to the store to get a damned gas can. Oh, I forgot to mention that this adventure happened on Black Friday (The day after Thanksgiving) and the entire population of Oregon is out shopping today. And they are cranky. And I'm getting that way. And I have to pee.
We buy a gas can, go to the gas station, and then pray that the police officer has now gone on his merry way before we get back. Luck was with us.
He gets the gas in, and we are finally turned around and ready to get back on the road home. I have him follow me, since he would probably end up in Washington before he figured out he was going the wrong way.
No worries. We pass the same motorcycle cop, but he has someone pulled over and I feel like I could throw confetti out the window. From there on, it was smooth sailing.
Three hours later,
his car is all tucked in at his apartment waiting for him to win the lottery so he can do the drivers license and insurance thing. I can't think of a better way to have spent my Friday.