Libby Goes Car Shopping (A Political Parable)

I went with a friend the other day to help her buy a car. See if this reminds you of anyone you know.

Libby: Thanks for coming with. I just can’t stand the idea of having to drive this lemon another day. I’m embarrassed to death by it. It wastes fuel, it leaks oil, it’s loud as hell, it’s all over the road, and it annoys my neighbors. But the worst part for me is that it looks like shit. I mean, why would anybody paint a car this hideous orange color?

Me: I don’t blame you. How did you end up with such a piece of garbage vehicle in the first place?

Libby: I know, right? I had my eye on a nice little Yugo, but my husband was having none of that. He picked this car despite my protestations.

Me: Well, I guess that exp—Wait, what? You wanted a Yugo?

Libby: Yeah, well it wasn’t exactly my first choice. I only went to the dealer because they had some nicer looking models in the lot. But when I talked to the dealer, they said the Yugo was the only option they had for me. And I just couldn’t bear the thought of driving in the car my husband wanted.

Me: But you are literally driving in the car your husband wanted.

Libby: Well, that’s the fault of the other people who chose the other cars, isn’t it?

Me (exasperated): Okay, whatever. The point is, we have to find you a dealer you can trust.

Libby: Uh-uh. We’re going to Bluno’s.

Me: I’ve never heard of them.

Libby: It’s short for Bluno Mattahoo. Their motto is, “All the cars someone like you will ever be able to afford.”

Me: That doesn’t sound very encouraging.

Libby: It’s the same place where I wanted to buy the Yugo. And hopefully they’ll still let me buy a car from them.

Me: What?! Why would you do that?

Libby: Well you don’t expect me to buy from the dealer that sold me this lemon, do you?

Me: Well, no. But I hardly expect you to buy a Yugo just to—

Libby: Besides, I already promised to buy a blue car.

Me: That’s your standard? So long as it’s blue, you’ll agree to buy it?

Libby: Well, it’s better than orange, isn’t it?

Me: I have to agree that I would prefer a blue car to an orange car. Nevertheless, I—

Libby: Quiet. We’re here now.

Libby (walking into the showroom): Ooh, look at all the nice sales people willing to help us.

Me: They’re sales people, don’t trust them.

Libby: Oh, don’t be like that. Look, that one’s a woman.

Me: Yes, a woman salesperson.

Libby: She’ll know what it’s like for a woman to buy a car. It’s hard, and salesmen try to take advantage of us women.

Me: Yes, she knows, and she’ll use that to her advantage. Just because she’s a woman—

Libby: Oh, look. That man—not that I make assumptions—appears to be gay. I want him to sell me a car.

Me: Don’t worry about his sexual predilections. You’re here to buy a car. Pay close attention to what he’s saying and make him back up any assertions he makes.

Libby: Honestly, I don’t know why I let a homophobe come with me to buy a car. I swear to God if I end up with another orange car, I’m going to hate your guts. (To salesperson): Excuse me.

Salesperson: Hello. I couldn’t help noticing you driving in that atrocious orange car. I am going to do everything in my power to make sure I get you a new car today.

Libby: Oh thank goodness. (Aside to me): Did you hear that? He said he’s going to do everything in his power to make sure he gets me a new car today.

Me: He’ll do everything in his power to get a big commission.

Libby (To salesman): Oh, ignore him, he just doesn’t know what it’s like to have to drive around in an orange Pinto.

Me: I’m your neighbor. I have to look at it every day. I hear it rumbling down the road, and I have to smell its exhaust when you drive it past my window. I despise your orange car as much as you do. Maybe more. It’s very important to me that you get a good--

Salesperson (Interrupting): It really is just about the most abominable looking car I’ve seen in my life.

Libby: Oh, I know.

Salesperson: And I will sell you a car that isn’t orange.

Libby: Really? You would do that for me? I can’t thank you enough.

Me (Aside, to Libby): Would you dial it down some? You can’t let him think you’re a pushover. You have to negotiate.

Libby: But I can’t stand driving that car for another day!

Salesperson: And here is the finest vehicle we have available.

Libby (Swooning): It’s blue!

Me: How many miles does it have on it?

Salesperson (condescendingly, to Libby): So you brought a real car expert with you, huh?

Libby: I’m sorry. He just doesn’t understand. He’s not a realist like I am.

Salesperson: This vehicle has a hatchback so you can easily put your groceries in it.

Me: The car she has now has a hatchback. Does this car leak oil?

Salesperson: I hardly think that her being in the situation she’s in that she can afford to worry about oil leakage right now. Perhaps she can work her way up to a car that doesn’t leak oil a few transactions from now, but it is my only priority to get her out of the orange car. (Turning to Libby) Now you’ll notice that this car has a cassette player in it.

Libby: Well, that’s certainly a step up from the 8-track player my current car has.

Me: It’s a Ford Pinto, Libby. It’s the same car you have now with minor differences. You can do better.

Libby: Do you think so?

Salesperson: No. You can’t do better.

Other Salespersons In Salesroom: Blue car or no car!

Libby (To me): I can’t do better.

Me (Aside to Libby): Listen, Libby, you can’t let them treat you this way. They will take advantage of you and give you whatever they feel like giving you until you stand up for yourself.

Salesperson (feigning great forbearance): Let me find another salesperson. I’m sure he’s someone you’ll really like and trust.

The salesperson leaves, and a moment later, an African-American man in a suit comes walking towards us.

Libby: Oh, an African American. He’ll help me for sure. He knows what it’s like to be ripped off by white men.

Me: Libby, for the last time, his skin color, his gender and his sexual preference don’t matter as much as the fact that he’s here to sell you a car. Demand proof and show him you won’t take just anything he shows you. You’re the boss, Libby. For God’s sake, stand up for yourself!

Libby: How did you become so cynical?

New Saleperson: I hear you want change. Am I right?

Libby: It’s like you read my mind.

New Salesperson: And you want a car that reflects your values and aspirations.

Libby: Yes! Yes!

New Salesperson: Without any of the kerfuffle and nonsense that you’re going to get from the other dealer.

Libby (aside, to me): Now here’s a man I could buy a car from!

New Salesperson: Well, you’re in luck. We just happen to have a trade-in come in today. I think you’re gonna like it.

Libby: I can’t stand the anticipation. Show it to me.

Me: Does it get good gas mileage?

New Salesperson: Well, the gas mileage varies according to the situation. Now, naturally, you’re not going to get as good of mileage driving in the city as you would on the highway. And then, it relies upon you to a certain extent, doesn’t it? If you accelerate slowly, you’re going to get better gas mileage than if you floor it. It only makes sense. And then there’s the matter of keeping your tire pressure at the recommended level. There are a lot of factors to consider.

Me: Does it get good gas mileage?

New Salesperson: You will have access to good gas mileage.

Me: C’mon, Libby, let’s get out of here.

New Salesperson: You’re names Libby? That’s a wonderful name, Libby.

Libby (Aside to me): But he’s so nice.

New Salesperson: So what do you say, Libby? Are you ready to get rid of that old clunker?

Me: Libby, no! You haven’t even seen the car yet! Don’t trust this man!

Libby: I’ll do it!

Me: Oh God, Libby, what are you getting yourself into?

New Salesperson: A wonderful choice Libby. Just sign on this line for a four-year loan.

Me: No!

Libby (Signing): I feel better already.

Me: Can we at least see the car now?

New Salesperson: Well of course. Like I said, we just got this one in today. Somebody traded it in. (Leading us outside into the lot): Here it is. Isn’t she a beaut?

Me: This is the car Libby traded in. You just spray-painted it blue.

Libby (breathtakingly elated): Oh, no it’s not, silly. This is an environmental model. Look at the tree in the window.

Me: That’s an air freshener, Libby. Someone hung an air freshener off your mirror.

Libby: It smells so fresh!

Me: Libby, you are the worst car shopper I’ve ever seen.

Libby: Oh, don’t be like that. I’m happy, and that’s all that matters.

Me: Why would you be happy getting back the same car you hated?

Libby: Well, for one thing it has this wonderful air freshener. I won’t have to notice the smell of the gas as it’s leaking.

Me: Is that it?

Libby: Heavens, no. I haven’t mentioned the best part.

Me: What’s that?

Libby: My husband’s going to absolutely hate it!

Me: Libby, I think that’s the first thing you said today that I agree with.

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