Saturday, November 14, 2009

Me and "my" beemer*

I feel like people are watching me.

You see, I'm housesitting for my sister and her husband this weekend. With the house comes the responsibility of two cats and a fish. But it also comes with a brand new BMW she asked me to drive for the weekend so I could pick them up in it -- I guess because it's already equipped with Jack's car seat and such. I tried to propose an alternate transport plan to my sister explaining how I didn't want her car to be my primary mode of transportation for the weekend. She looked at me like I was crazy.

Let me explain: I drive a '98 Chevy Prizm. It's worth maybe $1500 right now. I have little concern about what happens to my car at this point. I just want it to get me from here to there and to keep me warm on the way. The only automatic thing about my car is the transmission. I have to roll down the windows manually, unlock the doors manually...turn a key manually. The BMW does all that for me. There's no key to this car -- It knows when I want to come in. The trunk closes all by itself too. It's like magic. I bet if I was sick of being stopped at a traffic light, all I'd have to do is rub the emblem on the steering wheel and my green light wish would come true.

After my sister gave me a brief tutorial on how to make the thing go, I left the airport. The hypertensive thought of "Be careful, this isn't your car" soon wore off as I sunk into the heated seats and let Coldplay guide me through a surprisingly comfortable transition. It wasn't long before I came to terms with the reality that this car... is... awesome.

What should I do now? I thought. I kind of wanted to pick up friends and see if they needed to run errands or anything. My thoughts quickly shifted to the idea of -- no joke -- antiquing. Yep, I went from zero to yuppie in 0.8 seconds.

I hit this consignment store on 8th South that I always drove by but never stopped to go inside. I parked the car on the street, really nervous to leave it there by itself. I looked back after I reached the end of the street to make sure it was still OK. When I was done shopping I walked back to the car, floated my hand above the handle and the car granted me entrance. I climbed in and thought, "I love you BMW."

My antiquing adventure continued in Sugarhouse. When I locked the car by gently pressing the door handle I turned around only to receive glances from passers by. I wasn't sure what the glances meant, but I knew it had something to do with the car I just got out of. It made me feel uncomfortable and I crossed the street pretending I was unaffected.

The store I walked into was pretty high end. An upholstered stool was like $600. I spotted a small mirror similar to one I saw at IKEA a couple days ago. IKEA's price? $20. This one? $180. I walked around wondering if this is where rich people think they need to shop. The owner walked up to me and asked, "Can I help you?" I told her I was just browsing and then she looked me up and down. No joke. She sized me up. Excuse me for walking into your store! You think my Old Navy wardrobe, half-styled hair and absent makeup isn't good enough to shop here? You wanna see my BMW parked out back?

The car and I have gotten along the past 24 hours. I even reached for the premium gas pump at the Chevron (mostly because I feared the fuel tank would spit the regular unleaded back out at me). I'm at my home right now, and the beemer is parked out front along the curb. I heard some talking outside earlier. I ignored it for several seconds but then I looked out the window and saw three guys examining the car and even looking inside the windows. I opened my front door with focused aggression and they scattered like shrapnel.

That's right. Beat it hooligans! And stay away from my property. I'm going to have to keep close to my window until I return the car safely to it's secured garage. Look who's being watched now!

*I should be clear, now that I am a temporary BMW driver, I did my research and learned the term "beemer" refers to a motorcycle. A BMW car is called a "bimmer" -- but before the urban dictionary I had never heard that term. I could have used "bimmer" throughout this post, but please...I don't want to sound like a snob.

9 comments:

Annie said...

I want a ride before you return it!

And you should have just held the keys for that snobby lady so the BMW keychain was showing.

Kelly D. said...

Laura, you are hilarious! Great post!

Ilene said...

You crack me up. Zero to yuppie.

I get looks from people when I am driving around in my big 'ol suburban. Somehow I don't think it is the same as what you are talking about.

Lisa Marie Trent said...

Um. People? Lurking around our car? Ok, so let's park it in OUR garage at night...sleep at OUR house in the big comfortable bed, if it isn't too much trouble.

Dude, this is why nice cars are sweet. Not because they look flashy and have a blue and white propeller as a logo. It's because they somehow make you life easier through automatic door handle sensors and heated steering wheels.

Laura Lee said...

Don't worry...the car didn't spend the night at my house, just 3 or 4 hours.

The steering wheel heats up? Barbie's got a kitchen!

SRA said...

Like my bishop's Lexus. Just the coolest car. Glad you're enjoying a walk on the wealthy side.

carter said...

I don't even know you anymore...

Lisa Marie Trent said...

wow. now I know how carter really feels.

MandiScandal said...

if you just heard me laughing really loud...it was because i just read this post.