I have decided that, along with most of the world, I hate car salesmen. Why must they be such vultures? Why, when I assure them that I am simply test driving, pricing various models and getting *ready* to buy a car, must they insist on obtaining my phone number and e-mail address and then harassing me for weeks afterward? Who's idea of good salesmanship is THAT? In what parallel universe does that technique actually work?
(And why don't I just refuse to give that information the next time? I've learned that you don't actually, legally have to fill out any paperwork before test driving cars).
When are these wolverines going to get hip to the fact that anyone who has access to the Internet knows exactly how much their old car is worth, how much the dealership paid for that new car on the lot, and everything about the engine (including the fact that a V-6 engine does require premium fuel, Mr. Lying Head Sales Schmuck)? I may be a girl but I ain't that dumb.
In totally unrelated rantings, I just learned that one of my favorite comedians, Mitch Hedberg, died in late March. Very sad. He was weird and bright and really funny.