driving through a minefield | 2002-08-28 - 9:46 p.m.


The beginning of my test drive was un poquito like the beginning of a DMV driving exam. I was all nervios. My manos were shaking visibly. My heart was pounding. My eyes fluttered anxiously over the dashboard, taking in the many dials and gadgets. Next to me, the alb�ndiga in the short-sleeved shirt was busily scribbling algo onto a clipboard. Behind me, Concha was digging her knees into the back of my seat. To calmar my nervios, I began trying to recordar what the "P" on the gear shift was supposed to stand for.

The alb�ndiga in the short-sleeved shirt coughed into his mano. Not just once, but muchas veces, and wetly. This went on for so long, I half expected to see sangre streaming out of his boca; algo como Nicole Kidman in Moulin Rouge. Why hadn't we noticed this man was consumptive when we were still inside the dealership?

"Are you OK?" Concha asked from the backseat.

"Just a virus," Sr. Short-Sleeves answered dolefully, once the coughing had stopped.

"Hopefully not West Nile," mumbled Concha.

Sr. Short-Sleeves ignored the remark and turned to me. "Let's go," he said, with the air of a man about to drive through a minefield.

I turned the key in the ignition. Miraculously, the carro roared into life. This is easy, I thought. Qu� in demonios was I so nerviosa about?

Trouble started as soon as I tried to drive the carro out of the lot. I threw the car into gear and put my foot on the acelerador, but nothing happened. The carro just made a jerking movimiento, like it was sitting in the middle of a bridge during a terremoto. The harder I put my foot down, the harder the car jerked. Acelerar, jerk. Acelerar, jerk. ACELERAR, JERK!

Piece of crap KIA, I thought. The floor model doesn't even work!

"TAKE THE BRAKE OFF!" screamed Sr. Short-Sleeves. "TAKE THE GODDAMNED HAND BRAKE OFF!"

"Alright, alright," I told him, throwing my hands up, "you don't have to yell at me." Plus, chillando won't be any good for that cough of yours, I thought, looking for the elusive hand brake. "Um, where did you say the brake was ..."

Sr. Short-Sleeves didn't answer; he just reached down and jerked on algo and the carro suddenly began to move! Hijos, I could certainly see why he was getting paid the big bucks to work in a dealership. He certainly knew a thing or two about KIAs!

"OK," said Sr. Short-Sleeves a little m�s tranquilamente, "turn out of the lot here; make a right onto V*ct*ry."

I nodded my assent. Just as I flicked on the turn signal, I heard Concha scream from the backseat, "Oh my God, isn't that Bill Simon?"

anterior - siguiente

pride and prejudice - 2004-09-07
wherein I become a Yahoo! Search Result - 2004-06-23
like 9-11 all over again - 2004-06-20
enough said - 2003-02-05
tirar por la calle de en medio - 2003-01-28

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