Still shopping for the woman topping your gift list?
Er, haven't yet started shopping for the woman topping your gift list?
Lucky for you, women -- contrary to our complicated reputation -- are simple creatures.
All we want for Christmas is a bow. Not the Katniss Everdeen kind -- the ribbon kind. A big, bold red bow.
With a shiny new car attached.
At least that is what I -- the driver of a 2003 grizzled gas guzzler -- wanted. Now, I've needed new wheels for a long time, but no way was I going to buy before this month.
Because of all the great year-end savings?
No. To borrow a Meghan Trainor tune, I'm all about that bow, 'bout that bow, no transmission.
Years and years of those "December to Remember" Lexus sales event commercials have conditioned me to desire -- surprise, courtesy of my doting sweater-adorned husband! -- a lovely ribbon-adorned luxury ride, parked in my expansive circular driveway with light snow falling.
Well, I'm not married. I only have a carport. And 50-degree December days yield no flurries.
Still, darn it, I wanted the bow.
Oh, yeah, and a car.
I researched my options. There was no way I could spring for the official 2015 "December to Remember," but I could afford a 2015 "December to Kinda Look Back on Fondly." I pinpointed what vehicle, trim level and options I wanted, right down to the color that would best offset the bow.
We (including my boyfriend, dressed not in a sweater, but a fleece pullover -- it would do) devoted an afternoon to bow browsing, I mean, test-driving at a dealership where bright bows beckoned in the showroom.
The next few days were spent haggling via text about all kinds of irrelevant stuff -- price, options, interest rates. It dawned on me that if these negotiations continued, it might be, horrors, January before we'd reach an agreement. And the bows would be -- like the Parkers' turkey in A Christmas Story after the Bumpus' hounds got to it -- gone! All gone!
So, in case I'd have to provide my own, I began researching these ribbons.
Who knew there are entire retailers devoted to car bows? There's carbowstore.org, "the leading manufacturer of car bows in the United States."
And there's kingsizebows.com, supplier of the bows used in the Lexus commercials. Out of curiosity, I called Parker Lexus about their bow policy. The agent I spoke with says the dealership lends them out to buyers who return them.
And that's because big bows -- to be used once for the wow factor and a few photos -- can cost big bucks. Noticing they cost about $30 to $60 on the specialty sites, I searched eBay where they went as high as $87 plus shipping. I might have to rethink my whole car budget. How badly did I really need brakes anyway? Where's the husband in the sweater when you need him?
Thankfully we had just about finalized a do-able deal and well within my December time frame. I just had to go to the dealership, sign the papers and swap keys.
But we still hadn't talked about the most important item. The value of my trade-in? No! The bow!
I couldn't risk talks collapsing at this delicate point. I had to be casual and cool about it, not pushing too hard.
I texted: "And you can throw in a red bow if you feel so moved!"
I waited, sure that it would cost another $1,699.99.
He texted back without dollar signs and decimal points: "I can do that."
He could and he did. And it looked radiant -- the magnetic red paper bow perfectly perched on the hood of whatever thing I just bought with the four wheels.
I couldn't wait to take the bow for a spin.
Let it bow, let it bow, let it bow!
"It will blow off the second you drive out of here," the salesman warned.
Let it blow ... let's not. So off the bow went. Until it's eventually trashed, it's stashed in the trunk.
Hey, cargo area! I didn't realize the bow came with that!
Tie one on, email:
jchristman@arkansasonline.com
What's in a Dame is a weekly report from the woman 'hood.
Style on 12/16/2014