I felt a small twinge of panic flutter up in my stomach as I drove off the lot at the dealership last night, leaving my car behind. I still feel a little bad about it. Totally high on new car smell, but still bad.
Ahem.
Until Sunday afternoon, the idea of trading in my little Jetta had not even registered on my List of Things To Do Ever. Not one to be lured by shiny new gadgets or to constantly upgrade (I still have and use the iPod mini I bought in 2004), I was perfectly satisfied with the first car that was ever all mine. See, I get really attached to things. I happen to think this is a fine trait and that it should make the gadget loving Boy feel very secure about our impending marriage, but that is neither here nor there.
After a discussion about upcoming car-related expenses, The Dork Lord and I came to a very swift awakening: we could not afford both the wedding and the necessary car upkeep. Car or wedding? Choices, choices! Were this any other six month period in the history of us, we’d have let sleeping dogs lie (despite my growing worries over the unpredictable and uncontrollable expenses associated with cars whose bumper-to-bumper warranties have passed expiration).
As it was, we settled on checking out our options. If it made financial sense, we would proceed. If not, well, then not.
After a quick negotiation refresher course from my brother, I walked into the dealership with four numbers written on a card: what I would pay for a new car, what I wanted for my trade-in, the APR I was expecting and just how much a monthly payment on this new, super-warrantied, my-kids-are-gonna-hate-me-’cause-I’m-gonna-make-’em-drive-it vehicle should be. And after a dutifully weak first offer by the sales manager, some raised eyebrows and rather specific suggestions on my end, I got what I wanted. Like, to the dollar.
“I’m comfortable with this,” I said, sliding the paper back across the desk. Comfortable? Ha! I’m AWESOME! Then the manager was so quick with a firm handshake I thought, “Damn! I shoulda been awesomer!” but he was happy, I was happy and all there was to do was sign sixty seven documents and empty the remaining few personal belongings from my now former car.
It felt weird. Really weird.
Am I thrilled with the new car and its intoxicating smell and eighty-four months of peace of mind? You betcha! Knowing that I’ll have a car payment for two years longer than I’d originally planned doesn’t even faze me, I’m so lulled by the warranty’s siren song. And I can’t wait to figure out all the new buttons and gadgets. Hold on, let me call you on the hands-free.
The funny thing is, and this should not surprise me, I keep thinking of my car, sitting there in that dark parking lot all alone and saying to myself, “Man, I hope they sell her to someone nice.”
sooooo, what’d ya get?!
I had to leave my poor Jetta as well for the same reason– I would have driven her for years if the engine hadn’t broken down, electrical stopped working randomly, and a few other random problems that always meant lots of money. I think Volkswagen really means “expensive mechanic bills” in German.
Woot woot by the way on not trading up for new models– I’m also rocking my pink iPod mini still from 2005
Originals are the best 
I absolutely love my new Subaru Outback (the new car smell is better than perfume isn’t it!) but I was nearly in tears when I left my old car at the lot. I still, to this day, look at every silver Camry I see trying to determine if it’s my old car. I’d know it anywhere (even though those are super common). I hope both our cars went to a good home!
I felt this way when I left my first Neon behind to be picked up the salvage yard. I spent 6 years with that car and loved it to death until someone totaled it. I don’t think I’ve been so attached to another car since.
Circa 2005ish metallic blue ipod shuffle over here! When I sold my Taurus wagon post divorce and bought a used little red Saturn, I slipped a note into the Taurus manual, wishing the new owners well and suggesting they take as good care of it as I did for 170K miles.
As I was at the dealership cleaning out my 10-year-old Nissan Altima that I traded in toward a lovely new Mini Cooper S, I felt guilty, like I was betraying a friend. When we left with the new Mini I sat in the passenger seat looking back on my old friend and felt so sad.
I felt the same way when I sold my VW Cabriolet to buy that Altima. I loved that little convertible, but man, are VWs expensive to fix. They last forever (my mom had a ’77 Super Beetle until I was in college), but when they break, get ready to open your wallet.
Finn – That’s exactly it. Like I was leaving a friend sitting there. What a weird, weird sensation.
I just “abandoned” my Focus with a dealer to take my mom’s Mazda when she traded up for a new Sorento. I secretly hope they ship my bright yellow baby to a state far away so I don’t have to see anyone else driving her.
OMG, this was EXACTLY how I felt when I sold my own 2003 Jetta just three months ago….to a “T.” You take the words right out of my head.
Congrats on the new ride.
OMG I felt the same way when I gave up my honda civic last year. Still, every black civic I see around here I wonder if it’s her. I hope a really nice girl got her & not some stupid teenage boy who will put ridiculous rims on it, a stupid sound system & hang a bandanna from the rear view mirror.
Now though, I drive a VW Beetle & it is seriously the WORST vehicle I have ever owned. Everything breaks – it’s in the dealer almost every month of the last year I owned it. It’s in right now for a transmission replacement!
The day I trade THIS car in I am going to do a happy dance & give her the finger as I drive away in my new (non-VW) ride.
We just got my husband a new Hyundai Tucson. It’s so cute, and I’m so jealous. What’d you get? What’d you get?
Ooh, too cool, Fish! What did you get?
You know, I never really thought about it until just now, but I think I’ll be really upset when my car wheezes its last. I guess I’ll just hope that baby has a few more years in her.
I just lost my first car, much loved, long owned, to some ass who reversed into it at high speed. I had to go to the junkyard to clean it out, along with all my high school, college, and post-college memories. It’s so much sadder than you think it should be. But at least you have something new and shiny!
I got another Jetta. I really did love mine and even though I got the grown-upper version (navigation and a must have if I’m gonna have a kid in the back seat one day – bluetooth calling) it feels familiar and I like that. I think in a span of four years, the only issues I had with my old one were a headlight and an engine fan, both of which they replaced the same day I noticed it and that was that. So, fingers crossed that this one treats me just as well.
This is so strange! I just left my baby (aka my 2002 Mazda Tribute bought and completely paid for by me) on the lot for a used 2006 Honda Civic that is “much more fuel efficient” for my fiance’s 30 mile drive to work each day. In return, I get his 2010 Tahoe that feels like driving a MAC truck. I cried when we left the lot. I felt so guilty leaving it there. I’m so glad I’m not the only one!!
Congratulations! I’m so happy that it worked out so well for you. I’m in the market myself. It’s the last thing I really want to do but, your story gives me hope.
Thanks!
As for the former automobile, I completely understand. I lost my beatiful Mustang in an accident and the day I went to retrieve my belongings from the yard, you’d had think that someone had just passed away. It was heartbreaking.
Again…CONGRATULATIONS! Many happy mileage to you!
You are not alone in your feelings about cars. I actually named my first car (a 1971 Ford Station Wagon) and my second car (1968 baby blue Volkswagon Beetle – with a crank sunroof!). I’m currently driving a 1998 Honda Civic that I adopted 8 years ago this month, and I’ve already decided to put the extra ~$800 into timing belt maintenance and new shocks/struts because I just don’t know how I would adjust to driving anything else. My relationships with my cars have lasted longer than my relationships with any guy I’ve ever dated. What can I say!
I’m confused. You sold the car because the warranty expired? Or because the car needed repair? Or both?
At any rate, enjoy the new car!
It’s so odd how, even when you “trade up” in cars, you can still feel so attached to other one. In my case, someone merged into my lane on the highway, so I hit the brakes, spun out across three lanes and hit the concrete median head-on at 60+ miles an hour. I walked away from it — and I didn’t hit anyone else, thank God — but my 2005 Celica was totaled. (I mean, REALLY totaled. Looking at it, I couldn’t believe someone — namely, me — wasn’t seriously injured, or even killed.) I absolutely adored that car. I had a few weeks to find a new car, so I got an Acura RSX. It’s a beautiful car, and I do love it, but I still get a little teary-eyed when I remember going back to my poor little car — the one that quite literally saved my life — to retrieve the plates. It’s a different set of circumstances, but I totally get being super attached to a car.
Also: My iPod is the hot-pink Nano I bought in 2005… and I haven’t updated it in three years. The tech-head boyfriend finds this hugely perplexing. I, on the other hand, find it hugely familiar and comforting.
)
i’m going to cry SO MUCH when i have to get rid of my car.
i’ve been thinking about it in a similar sense because i’m saving up for a condo downpayment, and having unpredictable car expenses is definitely a concern. i’m far too emotional about my car to be able to step in and make a quick, rational choice like that!
I’ve been shopping for a car for a few months now and have been having horrible luck with salesmen. As a young-ish, single girl, they see me as an easy target. Can you offer any bargaining advice? I always feel like they back me into a corner and I’m never sure how to get out of it…
Thanks!
-Kristen
I totally understand this emotional attachment to a car. My first car is still sitting on the driveway at my Dad’s house, despite the fact that I haven’t lived there for almost four years and that the car will no longer even turn over and start. As I’m now living in the city (and am thoroughly penniless) I haven’t even bought a new car, so I reason with myself that its ok, because I haven’t betrayed Betty…yet.
My Dad even got a note through the door from his postman, saying that he’d noticed The Car That Never Moves and wanted to buy it from him. But what would I do without her? Whenever I go to visit, her big eyes (er, headlights) are always there peering out from under a layer of leaf debris, welcoming me home! Betty has found her calling in life as a storage shed on wheels for all of my university junk, as I’m still not sure I can part with her.