Screamingly Yellow

I bought a "new" used car recently. It's a 99 Hyundai Excel GX Twincam...and before you get up my arse about "Bloody asian imports" let me remind you I am in Australia; 90% of the automobile market consists of imports, and the few Australian built models are either big trucks designed for off roading and tradesmen, or huge old man cars which guzzle gas like its air.

The car replaces, in fact, a monsterous big truck/van thing (2.4 m high, 5 m long and more then a tonne in weight) that I've been driving 75 K a day to and from work...and which does not fit in parking grages anywhere due to its height.

My dad was a backyard mechanic. I was a tomboy(only child till i was 8, then he remarried). I knew where all the fluids were (not as dirty as it sounds) and how to change spark plugs and oil filters before I could do long division.

Sean's a borderline metrosexual. He'd come ask me about his car as a first means of information. Ok, me or his mommy. So that left me all to my own to shop and negotiate for a car, without interference or imput from hubbydude. Yay!

I spent three weeks (3-4 days a week) scouring car dealers looking for that elusive one that would not treat me like an idiot cause I happen to have boobs.

I'm amazed that people can still run a business and exclude half the population.I had one grandpa actually tell me I was "wasting his time, to run along home and come back tommorow with my husband". I had FUN with him.

Somehow, my "I'm looking for a small sedan or hatchback; preferably between 2 litre and 2.5 litres with cruise and aircon in the 7 grand range" got morphed repeatedly in translation into "I have the perfect car; come look at this cute little festiva; it's pink and has a vanity mirror with LIGHTS!"

A fucking festiva. I was offered at least two dozen of the little shitboxes.I found only two dealers out of 40-50 who took me at face value and showed me what I actually asked specifically for. I negotiated down from 7900 plus on road costs to 7400 with on roads included, registration for 6 months - and had him throw in a 5 year all inclusive, tinted windows, new battery and tires and an full flush of the oil, which was gunky.

...And then after all this careful shopping around, research and negotiation... I was a total girl and bought the pretty buttercup yellow one.

A letter to my husband

We thought that this whole working out on the back deck thing was cute. We thought you were silly to think you needed to slim down...you are so perfect already. Then we saw your newly muscled arms, after just a week of your new weight program. Fuck you.

Suddenly the twice daily activity was more then just a good excuse to go perve on your random grunts and groans. We decided we wanted to take part, too.Fuck you.

You fucker. We hurt, and it is all YOUR fault. Like so much jelly, we are, when she attempts to stand. We protest each step when she walks. We scream your name at every moment.Fuck you.

Lunges you said; without the weights, as it's just the first night and you wanted to go easy on us. It seemed so innocent and innoculous. And so we scoffed at your piddling notion of having to treat us with kid gloves. Fuck you.

Look, the things you tormented are things you depend on. We cook your meals, we drive your car. We do your shopping, we wrap around you when you fuck. Do not... fuck with us.

We know where you sleep.

Love and kisses,
Nikki's legs.