All my life I have strived to fight my impulsive behavior. Assuming it was a sign of maturity and wisdom that I needed to emulate more, I have fought my internal nature and resisted my urges to “Just Do It!” Other people might need that prompting, but for me it has always been the opposite.
“Don’t be hasty,” my mother would caution.
“Sleep on it first,” chimed in my father.
And I would try to slow down and not go forth with some tremulous idea or rush off on a new adventure.
Such was the battle, about thirteen months ago, when driving around my neighborhood in Brooklyn trying to find a parking spot for my car. It was a Saturday morning, and I was doing my twice-a-day “move the car” routine so I could avoid yet another parking ticket. It was cold and raining and I had not been in the mood to get out of bed at all. On top of that, there was a rummage sale happening in a neighborhood church and these bargain-hunting ladies were scoffing up all my secret parking spots
Then I heard the insane Big Bucks Auto radio advertisement telling me to sell my car.
And it sounded like a really good idea. I think I resisted for another ten minutes and continued to curse and drive around trying to find a spot to park my stupid car in. I loved my car! Growing up on Long Island, a car meant freedom and independence. Even after I moved to New York City, well, Brooklyn, and had ample opportunities to use public transportation, I still held onto my car. After all, without my car how could I get away for quick weekend jaunts to the country? How could I run over to IKEA in Jersey and buy a new couch? How could I go grocery shopping for a dinner party without a car? Of course, in the six years I have lived in the city proper, I had yet to ever do any of those things. I barely used my car at all, except to house me in traffic as I moved it twice a day from one parking spot to the overpriced parking garage that was not nearly close enough to my office in Manhattan proper. My love was turning into bitter resentment.
So, after some jerk in an SUV grabbed a spot I had spied from across the road, and I found myself on Atlantic Avenue, the manic voices from the Big Bucks Auto ad kept running through my head. And, I thought, “Well, I am up and out of the house anyway … and I can’t FIND a dern parking spot ... and I am almost there. Let’s see if it really will take only twenty minutes to sell my car.”
I knew my parents would be horrified, but it wasn’t impulse, I told myself, it was curiosity. Would I get paid on the spot? Would it be worth the gas? Would I really just wake up one morning and get so disgusted with the lack of parking that I would go forth and sell my car?
Yes. Yes I did. Completely impulsively and it was the best move I ever made in my life!
Why Big Bucks Auto Changed My Life!
First off, they don’t practice false advertising and twenty-three-and-a-half minutes later, I was walking away with a huge wad of cash and my cab fare paid for to return me back to my apartment. If they were full of bahooey, as my dad like to say, then I would have probably driven home with my car, given in, and paid for parking the rest of that weekend, but that’s not what happened at all.
At first, everyone acted really surprised and even a bit disappointed? I think my friends tended to be disappointed since my car was the one borrowed. My cries of logic deciding to sell my car did not pass the muster of my folks and they said I would regret it, but they have a two car garage and a driveway, so what did they know of life in Brooklyn with a car anyway? Feeling defensive, I brushed off their concerns and tried not to hear “I told you so” when I entered the subway station Monday morning for my “new” daily commute to work.
