Attack of the Cadillac or "Don't buy cars if you don't understand the technology"

I drive an SUV. No, I'm not proud of it but I succumbed to a weak moment at the thought of being able to haul large amounts of antiques in the back. Not that I have ever hauled an antique but... if I need to I am equipped. Also, the thought of having a truck that has the capability of going across a rough muddy terrain was appealing. Don't ask me why but I ended up with an SUV that is capable of climbing Mount Everest while towing a 40 foot RV. Again, that "in case I need to" mentality kicked in.

So, my heart began to ache because I am an environmentalist. I truly believe we must conserve our natural resources and here I am driving a car that gets 18 miles to the gallon during a gas shortage. Action must be taken and soon!! Got my sweet hubby (who is always the victim) in gear and off we go to drive cars with good gas mileage. How we ended up at the Cadillac dealer is beyond me but we did.

I made the mistake of wearing my good jewelry that day so the salesman practically ran out of the building and had several lined up before we could say boo. We drove a couple that were less than appealing (but in our price range) but THEN we made the mistake of jumping up to the $75k models.

We climbed up in these monsters like we could afford them!! Drove the first one around and got totally immersed in the gadgetry and flashing lights. The best thing was the electronic ignition. You didn't even have to take your key out of your purse! You just get this little keyfob within so many feet of the car, push the button and you are off.

"What a dream and how convenient" I thought.

After all, how many times have I dropped groceries and shopping bags digging for my keys in the parking lot. And, it is a matter of safety in case I am being chased by a wild animal and need to get into the car quickly. (I'm very good at justifying the purchase of a car). That little keyfob was worming it's way right into my heart and pocket book.

My husband had a moment of lucidity and tried to tell the salesman the car we just finished driving just wasn't quite the right model. Made up some excuse about a feature it didn't have and, I'll be darned, he had one on the lot that had just that feature. And in the color I mentioned earlier I really wanted to have! Drove it up, plopped us right in and sent us on our way while he got yet another one ready for us to drive upon our return. We obviously were impressed. He was letting us take this expensive toy out without supervision. We had achieved the next level! I was sure an invitation to a most exclusive country club was in our future.

About 4 miles down the road I noted the emergency flashers were blinking. Being the Information Technology professional that I am, I assessed the situation and pushed the button I knew to be the flasher controls. To my dismay, the car went dead. Yes, I had pressed that little electronic ignition button. My husband, who is not an IT professional, knew what had happened right away and instructed me (with some additional comments) to pull to the side. Luckily we were in a residential area so the traffic was non-existent. No problem, I'll just punch that little button and start the car again.

WRONG..

The salesman had sent us off with a big ole toothy smile but still had that precious little keyfob in his pocket and his pocket wasn't in the car with us. To add insult to injury, both my husband and I had forgotten our cellphones. Our only solution was to walk the 4 miles back to the dealership in the 115 degree heat (and I'm not exaggerating on the temperature either).

We yelled and screamed at each other all the way back in between hysterical laughing at the situation. At one point I had to sit down on the sidewalk to recover myself. I was sweating (or glistening which is the Southern Belle term) profusely and had little pieces of tissue stuck to my face and chest where I was trying to wipe the sweat from my brow. No water in sight and, of course, no cars to give us a ride back. We walked the entire 4 miles with the exception of a few feet.

Eureka! The salesman sees us when we are within a few feet of the parking lot and jumps into a car to pick us up. My hero!

Wrong again...

He pulls up, throws us in and announces he is taking us to pick up the stalled car and we can take this one around the block. I was in the backseat with my face firmly planted inside the air conditioner vent trying to extract some type of water from the cold air. He stops in front of the Satan possessed car, throws open door and instructs me to get in and drive. My husband, a Vietnam veteran who is excellent at assessing dangerous situations, held up his hand and said "Don't do it. Just get in the driver's seat." He knew I was about to deck the guy. In my weakened state I crawled into the driver's seat and reached down to adjust the seat controls when the salesman promptly shut the door and crushed my hand between the seat and the door.

"ENOUGH!! I'm going to run him over!! The world must be saved from this man", I shouted.

Again, my emotionally stable husband saved the day by holding onto the steering wheel until the angel of Satan departed the area. "Just drive and we'll get cooled off." he says. I retrieved my mangled hand from between the seat and door, applied it to the steering wheel (making sure I got no where near that ignition button) and began to drive.

Everything is going well, we are getting cooled off, my hand has quit throbbing in pain and oddly enough, the car is a joy to drive. My husband looks up and says "What is this red button on the rear view mirror?" Before I could slap his hand away he pushes it and we hear

"OnSTAR, what is your emergency!!"

Oh great. We are in a car we don't own without the salesman (again) and have now instructed the OnSTAR people to go to Defcon 5. We are going to JAIL now. I explain we are test driving the car and my husband accidentally pushed the button and, no - we don't need him to run diagnostics, deploy an air ambulance, unlock our keys to save our child, deploy the airbags, call our family to let them know we are ok and we know where we are so we don't need directions. Crisis averted one more time.

We get back to the dealership where my husband begs to enter the air conditioned building. We are offered 2 ounces of Diet Coke (without ice) and given the tough sales speech. Hubby is picking the bits of tissue off of my face while explaining to the salesman we are not prepared to buy a car that almost precipitated an international incident. Slowly we make our way out, get into my safe SUV (where we have frozen bottles of water waiting in the 4 most excellent cup holders) and drive home.

The next morning I am recounting the unfortunate incident to my cousin when she asks

"Why didn't you just push the OnSTAR button on the first car. They would have called the dealership?"

DUH!!!!

So, the moral of this story is I'm driving that gas guzzling SUV until the wheels fall off. It has never stopped on me, always starts with a key, provides me safety and security and drives like a dream. Of course, I'm not sure that little bugger didn't call the Cadillac with my bluetooth headset to let it know it would pay it for stranding me so I wouldn't trade it in.