Well, today I spent three hours at a Toyota dealer. A man with very bad teeth tried to convince me that Social Security numbers have eight digits, then he asked me how to spell the word "quote." (Hint to Toyota: Up your standards.) The guy who actually sold us the car did a really decent job, though, harried as he was. *Those who doubt the economy, go to a Toyota dealership -- they are making out like bandits.
And the verdict: We own a Toyota Corolla. Yea, verily, we gave up our 17.5 mpg gas guzzling but beautiful Ford Explorer for a cloth-seat, no-moon-roof, fuel-efficient, smaller-carbon-footprint Corolla. That gets an estimated 35 miles per gallon.
Driving off the lot, I had a moment of angst. I missed my comfy leather seats. The Corolla is definitely not as posh. Also, it was weird to be back down on the ground again after a few years of sitting up high and mighty. I called Pa and told him I was a little weirded out. "That'll wear off," he said, "the first time you go to the gas station."
And I know he's totally right.
It was maybe a little painful. But the Corolla, which my daughter promptly named "Roxy" after the neighbor's little dog, is now sitting happily in the garage where the albatross SUV used to sit. I think we may actually get my husband's Explorer and the Corolla in the garage this year, AT THE SAME TIME, provided we store our 1974 AMF Puffer, which we bought off my best friend's dad for $10.
And I'm intensely relieved. I'd say that's my main emotion now. We got almost what we owed on the SUV, which in today's market is unbelievable - we actually got $700 over blue book value for it. Shocking. And we got 2.9% financing on the Corolla. Also shocking. So I think the stars aligned for us.
Since I've done so much research on this topic, my BlogHer post for Monday will be on this subject. Stay tuned, true believers.
Long live good gas mileage! And Blondie will be so proud, as now her Corolla has a SISTER.
Huzzah.
