Everything happens for a reason

I constantly tell people, when faced with adversity, that everything happens for a reason. Even the most devastating events possess profound meaning for those capable of stepping outside of themselves and assessing a situation from a perspective of cool detachment.

Now obviously, obtaining ‘cool detachment’ is the challenge, isn’t it. And one is not to be faulted for their inability to separate themselves from the emotions that invariably accompany difficult situations. But as a matter of course, my advice to people is to try to focus on the meaning behind the event.

Like most people, I don’t necessarily follow the advice I dole out.

Case in point.  Last weekend, I went to the Wayne Mazda dealership to buy a car. When I got there, it was a fricking zoo. This dealership was a Wayne Mazda/Hyundai dealer, and with the Hyundai Assurance promotion they’re running, folks were lined up to purchase one of the fleet of if-I-get-fired-I-can-return-it-no-questions-asked Hyundais.


This is what my Jeep looks like (less the chrome grill).

This is what my Jeep looks like (less the chrome grill).

I was originally looking for a CX9, but after walking the lot, and checking my budget, I settled on a 2006 Jeep Commander (the same model I was currently in). When I finally got to speak to Sergio Alvarado, my salesperson, it was almost closing time, so I left a deposit, signed some paperwork, and made an appointment to come in later in the week to pick up the car.

Returning a few days later to finish my transaction, I was told that someone had placed a deposit on the Jeep before me, and that I would have to wait until Saturday to see if they would complete the purchase. Angry doesn’t even begin to express the ‘I’m-going-to-bitch-slap-you-o-bearer-of-bad-news’ emotion welling inside me as the salesperson (Ben, not my sales guy, but some other dude) explained the inexcusable error that was depriving me of the vehicle I had my heart set on.

Seething, I left the dealership (after begrudgingly re-walking the lot to see if there was another car I could accept in my precious Jeep’s stead-there was not). When I got home, I gave poor wifey an earful about how full of shit the dealership was, what a shoddy outfit Wayne Mazda was running, and how I was going to blog about it (and get the five people that read my blog to permanently boycott all the Mazda dealerships in the world).

When I finished my hissy-fit, my wife spoke the same sage words I had spoken to many a hissy-fitter in my day, “don’t worry, everything happens for a reason.” She went on to reason that despite the fact that I liked the car, there were things about it that I didn’t like, and everything (despite how pissed off I was) would work itself out. Truer words have never been spoke.

Sergio called me up to come in to the dealership on Saturday. When I got there, my Jeep had, in fact, been sold. But there were three more shiny Commanders sitting on the lot.

Today, I drove home in my bigger, badder and deffer Jeep Commander. It’s a sleek black crystal pearl with chrome accents (the other one was a pedestrian Khaki with no chrome accents). It’s got a sunroof in the front and passenger sections (which the one I originally wanted didn’t). There are fog lamps on the front spoiler (negatory on the fog lamps on that other Jeep). Oh yeah, it’s also got 11,000 less miles on it (Khaki-no-chrome-no-sunroof-no-fog-lamps had 25,000), and cost me almost $100 less a month.

In my anger, I failed to see that I wasn’t REALLY sold on that Khaki chumpy in the first place.I had been at the dealership for over 5 hours on that first go-round, and I felt like they OWED me the vehicle I had suffered for. I couldn’t step outside of myself and examine the situation from that cool detached perspective, and was far too invested in my emotions.

The point of this post is actually two-fold: first, everything DOES happen for a reason; second: if you’ve ever looking for a car, those guys at Wayne Mazda rock!

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