So two days before starting the ill-fated new job, my car died, and I was thanking my lucky stars that it didn't happen at any point before that. I would have been too broke before to do anything about it except start walking the five miles to work and back in two feet of snow. Thank you, merciful, serendipitous timing.
My awesome boss at the bead store loaned me their old car that they no longer drive, a 1996 Toyota Corolla. I drove it around for a week, and asked if they'd be willing to sell it.
They were. (and for less than most of the repairs on the old one.) Say hello to the new guy, currently unnamed. (note: this photo isn't mine, but it looks just like it, minus the hubcabs. They mentioned the car seems to repel them.)
I got it inspected and registered today and you know what's nice about driving a car nearly a decade newer than your old one? It passes inspection, the first time. I could get used to that. They called and were all cryptic, "We have a couple issues, come by to talk about it," and when I showed up they were all, "It could use an oil change and there's some corrosion on the battery that you should get cleaned up." I was like, "Dude. I don't have to give you a couple hundred dollars for new tires or anything? Brakes? I can just drive it away now?" Awesome.
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