“Hey! Guy in front of me!”
Yeah, that’s probably not something I want to respond to at 2:30 in the morning in the drive-thru lane. I’m figuring the guy yelling it is somewhere on the high side of a blow into a breathalyzer, and it’s better I just pretend I don’t hear him.
“Hey! You! In front of me! Don’t act like you can’t hear me!”
Oh, joy, this is not looking like a good time to be stuck between the car in front of me, and the one behind me with the guy who’s probably feeling no pain.
I’m really not sure what to expect, as I was in my pickup, not my car. My car has a couple of LGBT related stickers on it, but the truck does not, so I knew i most likely wasn’t about to be gay-bashed, but I really was wondering… maybe it was the Obama magnet on the bed-mounted tool box? Maybe it was someone who recognized me from a blog posting? Why is this guy yelling at me in the drive thru?
I really didn’t expect what happened next.
He yells at me again, asking me how much would I sell my truck for? I yelled back at him “it’s not for sale, thanks!”
I thought that would end the shouting back and forth, but he persists.
“How much would it sell for? $3,000?” he yelled.
I’m thinking to myself, ‘$3,000? Is this guy drunk, high, or just plain nuts?’ I yelled back at him, “$3,000 is way too much for this truck!”
Now he starts tossing numbers at me, like he’s negotiating. I’m thinking to myself again, ‘geez, this thing would be lucky to get me $800 if I sold it, and that’s after putting $400 worth of tires on it last month.’
So now he’s wanting me to name a price, but he’s not said anything like he’s looking for a truck to buy, AND he asks me how much I think HIS car is worth! I can barely see him, as he’s at an angle behind me, I can’t really twist easily in my seat while wearing the seatbelt. At this point I’ve pulled up to the window, so I’m dealing with the gal there while Mr. Happy is still lobbing questions at me.
“I can’t see your car… what kind is it?” I decide to humor him a bit, at least until I can get my food and get out of Dodge, in my Ford.
“It’s an Audi!”
Oh, great, a car I know almost nothing about, other than they’re a bit pricey, and Detective Spooner drove one in “I, Robot”.
“What year?” I’m figuring it’s probably old, and maybe I can toss a price at him that’s reasonable for some old junker. I don’t know why I’m deciding to play this game, but maybe it’s because he’s blond and looks a bit hot, even though I can barely see him, and that’s mostly as an image in my side-mirror.
Well, drat, I have no idea what a 2003 Audi is worth, so I give up, and just yell “I have no idea”. At this point, I’ve got my food, and it’s time to beat a hasty exit and let the gal in the window talk cars with Mr. Happy.
Off I go, leaving Mr. Audi driver getting his food, and me wondering how often people discuss car prices at the top of their lungs in drive-throughs.
I’m also wondering if I missed out on an opportunity to sell my truck for 3 grand! (not that I would, that wouldn’t be fair to the buyer, and I really don’t want to sell the truck. But still. A blond. Three grand…)