On Monday, I sent out an update to my Twitter feed saying "You see the most interesting things and people at the police station." I said this because it was true, and because I had nothing else to do while waiting for my number to be called. I was #31. They were on #27 and had been since I got there.

I was there because someone dinged my car in the Midtown Plaza parking lot sometime over Christmas. I don't know who did it, so according to my insurance company, this is a heinous criminal hit-and-run accident. I was irritated by the fresh green paint on my bumper, but I was only spurred into action when I recently inspected the damage (-40 is too cold to stand around outside looking at paint) and noticed a crack. That's a bit more serious. The old car, I was prepared to drive it into the ground - and I guess I literally did - but I might like to get something for this one once our time is done and I move onto my next yellow car.

So that is why I called my insurers, who won't let you file a claim for a hit-and-run unless you also file a police report. And so I was at the station, sitting across from a bored woman and a bored old man, when we heard a loud "FUCK!" from downstairs. I would soon learn that the lobby of the police station is connected by a stairwell to the holding cells. A young man, just released from one of said cells, made the same discovery - or at least that's what I inferred from the shocked "uh-oh, people heard that" expression when he entered the room. He turned and left - heading up the stairs this time - and shouted "FUCK THIS!" Then he came back to the lobby, where he was met by a stern looking officer. Swearing Kid apologized repeatedly to the officer, who was very patient about things. Then Swearing Kid made a phone call and the swearing began anew, as did the stern looks. 

Someone else joined our little waiting game and asked us how long we'd been there. This is how I found out that the woman across from me had been waiting for hours for her son, who was in one of the cells. She looked quite drained, and all I could think is that if it was me and my mom, "drained" wouldn't cover it. I tremble at the thought of the path of rage that would have built up over those hours.

A few numbers got called, but those people had grown tired of the wait and they had left. The old man got called up and discussed a car accident he'd been a part of. My number was called and I sat next to the old man as we each gave our stories to the constables. After a few minutes, the old man was done and the next person got called up. This is where things got amusing. This new guy was on parole and had to check in, which is what he was there to do. Unfortunately, he'd violated his parole and thus was placed under arrest about two feet from me. The conversation was greatly amusing, mainly due to the laid-back nature of it. Nobody raised their voices, though the constable did have to repeat "yes, but you can't do that, since I have just placed you under arrest" several times, which was great.

The constable I was talking to also thought this was great. She would stop mid-sentence to watch the festivities. I couldn't blame her. Eventually, we quit talking about my car and just sat there and enjoyed the show. At one point, I muttered to her "this must suck for you, you got the boring guy." She snorted. 

The rest of the trip was boring. She filled out some forms and took a look at my car and that was the end of that. Then I went and bought some groceries.

So I've been a new(-to-me) car owner for not quite 36 hours now, and it's been an interesting experience. The fear of having a major mechanical breakdown has been replaced with the fear of someone hitting it, me hitting someone or something, someone breaking into it, or some sort of nasty surprise that I didn't see coming. The common sense part of me knows that these things are no more likely to happen now than they were with the Tercel, and I have insurance and a warranty, but still. We went to Boston Pizza last night, and I amused all by parking as far away from everyone else as possible. I was ordered to park over the yellow line and take up two spaces, but I refused. I don't want to be THAT guy any more than I already am.

We went to Superstore today and the keyless remote door-locker thinger didn't want to lock anything. I had a fit. It worked fine when I came back to the car some 30 minutes later. I need to maybe calm down a bit. And I need to quit going "WHAT'S THAT NOISE WHAT'S THAT SOUND SHOULD IT BE DOING THAT" - this car is significantly less likely to have a wheel fall off than my previous one. Which was the point of this whole experience.

Tomorrow I sign the official papers and figure out how I will actually give them my cash moneys. Then I make many phone calls - CAA, SGI, my package policy people, my apartment people - all that good stuff.

People can't tell if my car looks more like Mr. Peeps or The Cheat. I'm not sure what that says about me.

Guys, I bought a car.

I had planned to go browsing with Dave and Mika today, but on our way to Dave's place, my Tercel started making a new noise. I knew then that was time, and I hoped I could find something good in a short span of time.

We went to the Toyota lot, and there it was. I saw it when I picked up the Tercel after one of its repair jobs, and it was still there. A bright yellow 2004 Matrix. So pretty. And now it is mine.

Through this whole ordeal, here is what I have learned about cars, buying cars, selling cars, and fixing cars: Everyone does everything entirely different from everyone else, and everyone knows entirely different information to be true. I received a wealth of advice, and I appreciated and considered it all. But I would be remiss if I didn't point out that everyone told me entirely different things, and there was only one thing that everyone agreed on, which is that everything I had done and everything I was liable to do was wrong. So I won't tell you what I paid for the Matrix, or what they gave me for the Tercel, though I did talk them up despite their concerns about the rust all over the place. Including the hole in the floor.

We hauled everything out of the Tercel and I gave it a kiss goodbye. I will miss that no-good broken down jerk of a car. But not when I'm driving down the highway with cruise control, or being cooled off by the air conditioning, or not being passed by my back wheel.

And now I have five years of payments for a car that will probably be ready to sell off five years from now. Hooray perpetual debt!

Pictures coming soon.

I made a budget today! I can't say it was my first, but I've always kind of done a half-assed job of it and I've never really stuck to it. Normally, I have a good idea of the money coming in and a good idea of the necessary expenses, and so every so often I think "hmm, better quit spending for a while!" This policy has normally worked out surprisingly well for me.

We will not speak of that week when I thought my rent cheque had cleared but it had not and I had to pillage my savings account.

The budgeting, of course, has to do with the new car, whatever it winds up being. I'm going to have to be more careful with my cash moneys from here on out. So far, it looks quite doable. I'm going to cry bitter tears once I figure out everything I've forgotten, but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

I decided that I needed a budget - even a vague one - before meeting with the bank people to talk about car loans and my credit rating and whatnot. Basically, something to trick them into thinking that I know what I'm talking about. A trial run before trying to trick the car salesmen into thinking that I know what I'm talking about.

Now I need to look into budgeting software. I could do it all with an Excel spreadsheet but getting it to do what I want might be a bit beyond my abilities. Would be good practice, I suppose. For at least the start, I want to track all income and all expenditures to make sure that my estimates are something close to reasonable.

I have had this window open for about two hours because I keep getting distracted by the Food Network. I think I should just post this and try to be more entertaining later.

So I need to sort out this car thing once and for all. I say this because I have spent all afternoon reading about cars and the buying of cars and the pricing out of cars, and it has done nothing but leave me pacing and stressed and miserable. This is not a good way to spend a Sunday, in case anyone's thinking of trying it. When you think "I need to improve my day - I know! I'll clean the no-slip mat in my tub!", you have not spent a very good day at all.

Having priced out the cheapest Hondas, Saturns, and Toyotas on their respective websites, I have really only determined that a brand new car is entirely out of the question. I knew going into this process that brand new cars are foolish purchases, but now that I've seen just how huge the difference is between what I want and what I can afford, well... ouch. I've seen a few nice used cars on the local dealer websites, but it still makes me all panicky. In between the ridiculous them-versus-you bullshit battle (or "bullshit ballet," as I first typed - actually, I like that better) with the dealer, and my seeming inability to buy anything worthwhile, this is not a fun process. Not to mention, I'm starting off at a disadvantage because I'm driving a rusted out piece of junk that might crap out any day here, so time is not exactly on my side.

Do not ever ever ever Google "how to buy a car." It's almost as bad as trying to use Google to diagnose your own medical conditions.