in the game of love, everyone is a used car salesman

so the car i was looking into fell through. it was a 91 jetta. lots of new parts, good price, and red to boot. but it has 192,000 miles on it. they neglected to mention that on their little windshield blurb. so back to the hunt yet again

and i can't help but compare the search for a quality vehicle with the search of the Single Person for a Significant Other (trying to be gender-neutral here. plus i think the word 'boyfriend' sounds kinda lame). everyone goes out, walking around like they just got washed and waxed. touting their accomplishments and hoping no one will notice that small ding in the passenger side door. that no one will question their milage, their little quirks. hoping no one will check too closely under the hood.

which leads me to the concept of the lemon law. for those of you unfamiliar, lemon laws require honesty in transactions of new or used stuff. if it's in crap condition, say it. chances are, someone will still buy it (my first car cost fifty bucks. it had no cam shaft, the wheel bearings were shot, and many hundreds of other things were wrong with it. nevertheless, after dad and i fixed it, i drove it all the time, until i crashed it into the back of a cadillac on my way to work. which is why all first cars should be used cars. the end). what if people came with their very own warning labels?

see, wouldn't that be so much better? of course, then nobody would ever get together at all...

except for the the fixer-upper people. the ones who really believe they can change someone, or who simply cannot resist the challenge. these are the greasemonkeys of the dating world; for every relationship, they have to tinker, tweak, and poke things into shape. haircuts, clothes, musical tastes, all are subject to scrutiny, review, and overhaul if deemed unsatisfactory. their motto: if you can't buy it, build it!

the real miracle, i think, is that anyone ever manages to find one another...

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