A Car Is Born

Do you remember how I told you when buying a car in the U.S all you have to do is walk away and the salesman will run after you to accept your lowest offer? Well at least that's what happened to Ross. When we tried to do the same for me, it backfired big time and they just waved as we walked off.
In many ways I have enjoyed not having a car. The thought of driving on the other side of the vehicle and the other side of the road frankly terrifies me, and I suspect all the other drivers I have driven past lately while practising.
However, thanks to be the most patient car salesman in history, I am happy to report I am now the proud owner of a brand new car.
Having tried to sell me every used car in the showroom, Joe seemed surprisingly supportive when Ross decided to look at a new car instead. He even kindly explained that by spending a $1,000 dollars extra on the $3,000 we were already going over our budget, it would only add up to the cost of a packet of crisps a day for the next year. (Hope you're following this, it made sense at the time, although now I'm not so sure).
Anyway, an hour later we had fixed the deal, but then came the next problem. The garage was a mere 2 miles from our apartment, but being such a nervous driver I didn't really want to drive it home. Ross didn't seem too keen on my suggestion that he drive his car home, get a taxi back to the showroom and then drive my car back again. Luckily this is where Joe came into his own.
"I'll drive you back," he offered gamely.
At this point you'll need two pieces of information to help you see the complete picture.
Ever cautious, I bought a Toyota Yaris, the American version of the tiny car I had left behind in blighty.
Joe was a 6' 6".
"This is a great car, you'll love it," he said, limboing into the driver's seat.
"Of course I may not want to drive it myself. Not on a regular basis, anyhow."
Comfortably squished in with a comfy half a centimetre between himself and the steering wheel, Joe started the engine, ducked his head down below the sun visor and we were off.
On the way he even set my radio stations for me, whilst filling me in with stories of the charity he runs and his roomful of Mickey Mouse memorabilia. Not the sort of service you would get in England.
My beautiful silver bullet is now safely parked at our apartment, where she is getting to know Ross' larger, fancier car. And as soon as Joe has a day off we'll be off on the open roads!