If you are a faithful reader, you will know that one of the things I loved about my small town was that my car dealer was a block away. You maybe don’t know how handy this is until you have lived it. Imagine taking your car for an oil change and then walking home. Imagine poking your head out the window to see if it was done. Nice.
But all good things must come to an end. My local car dealer is one of the largest in the region and the fine folks at corporate didn’t feel that the sad little lot that they were on was cutting it. They have moved to a shiny, brand new dealership on top of the hill. No more walking home for the oil change.
The old building and lot was probably built in the 1940s. It was a little lot. The dealer had cars spread out all over town. There was nothing nice about the building. It was dirty and old . . . but it was nearby. A year ago when we bought the car I currently have, I was taking the garbage out when I noticed that my new car had its plates on. Normally you take your car to the dealer and they put them on, or you stop by the dealer and pick them up. Someone had walked over to my driveway and put them on. There’s no price for that.
Right now, I am writing to you from the fancy new lounge. There’s pop and wi-fi and what looks to be a very nice bathroom, but I haven’t used it yet. I’m sure I can get used to it.
But it’s not the same.