Things that make you go brmmmm

So we have now been in the US of A for two years, and to celebrate by coincidence we bought a new car that day. It isn't new new, just new to us. It's 4WD for those lumpy roads, and craptastic enough that we won't care much about mud, sand, scratches, sun damage, and all the other ways that the Nevada desert likes to reclaim vehicles unto itself and generally return them to the dust whence they sprang.

There were several strikingly interesting things about the transaction. And yes, I will now proceed to list them. You may want to give it up as a bad job without reading further.


Firstly, all the pseudo-gangsta fun ever. Y'all in NZ, our banking system is so good. You can transfer money to someone else really easily, so there is seldom an occasion to walk round with whopping wads of cash*. But here in America, that is not a thing, and cash means engravings of dead presidents**, not EFTPOS. So I got to walk into the bank about ninety seconds before closing time and somewhat diffidently ask if I could, er, please withdraw $7.5k in cash, and do I need to make arrangements in advance for that?

"Oh sure you can, no need to call ahead," said the teller. "You're in Vegas now."

I think I saw a light go 'ting' off his winking eye, and a faint ghostly glitter as of sequins hung in the air for a moment. K maybe I made that up. It was fun, though, and the only special arrangement was that he walked me to the door of the bank after I'd tucked the plumptious envelope of hundies into my purse.

(It's weird, there are two tiers of cash transactions. Leftover hundies are a PITA, nobody accepts them except automated machines or banks. Any actual human looks sideways at the very least if you tender anything bigger than a twenty for a normal purchase.)

Secondly, gawd how inefficient grind the wheels of small business here. Now even my most devoted admirers, whoever they may be, will concede that I am picky, not to say exacting. (Which misses an opportunity to use 'finicky'.) And if I am short a meal or a couple of cups of coffee, downright grumpiness can readily ensue. Seriously, two hours and a half from when I fronted up with the cash to when we walked away with the keys. Guys, what? This is what's wrong with your economy. Also, I am ready for my lunch now.

Thirdly, wow the berloody awful position that some people end up in, a horrible vicious circle of credit trap. I saw this article that talks about how many people are trading in cars that are worth less than they still owe on them. And I admit, I thought "what kind of eejit ...?" But no, it might just be really bad luck. If your car breaks down and you can't afford to fix it but you still need a car to get to work, then buying a new one, and taking a lowball offer for the broken one, might be your only option. We were lucky enough to be fronting up with cash - but 'Bird Dog', our friendly salesman, told us that at least 90% of their business involves arranging finance. Cheap it ain't. The premium for walking in cashless and creditless starts at an additional $1k and goes up to $3k. Crikey.

So, fourthly, if that many trade-ins are on underwater vehicles, and some proportion of those have repayments calculated to a nicety on an income that leaves no room for error, how long before the sub-prime auto loan crisis? Because I really doubt we've learned much from the last panic.

But then, because this story has a happy ending so far, the next day we packed a thermos and hard boiled eggs and we drove out into the desert and found, apparently, the promised land. Yup Murica. Guess we'll stay as long as they'll have us.

View west-ish towards Nipton from the Joshua Tree Highway

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*Shoutout to Michael, our beloved DM, because of whom I can never ever think of whopping wads of cash without abruptly being down the end of some ten-foot-wide corridor somewhere, counting (on a calm day) or rapidly shovelling (on a more hurried day) thousands of coins, while nearby cooled the corpses of our enemies.

Ah, table-top roleplaying. No, not actual corpses. Jeez you guys!

**And is it just me, or does Ben Franklin have the worst case of resting bitch face ever?