Finding Nirvana Through Carvana
/It was an ordinary evening in small-town Americana when the car arrived. The pre-twilight air was damp and heavy after the rains. The sun was just dropping below the trees in the west when the truck, carrying a resplendent blue Buick sedan, pulled up in front of the house.
The car was my brother’s new vehicle, purchased from Carvana to replace the one that his oldest daughter Laura totaled a few weeks ago. Laura said she wanted to be mentioned by name in a post, so here you go! To be fair, it might not have been her fault, the back end of the car was smashed in a rear-end collision. My five-year-old, Jacob, wasn’t so sure, though. As we were leaving for our trip to IHOP last week, my mom suggested that Laura could drive because she was a good driver.
“Well, what about that smashed up car sitting in the garage?” Jacob rejoined.
But the details of the accident aren’t important. No one was hurt, and without it, we never would have had such a magical evening. It’s not every day that a new (used) car is delivered right to your door.
The Carvana delivery person seemed a bit taken aback as he emerged from his truck and made his way up the driveway. Perhaps he wasn’t expecting a full-fledged welcoming committee? We assumed it was standard procedure for the entire household, extended family, neighbors, and guests to mark the arrival of a new motorcar. Maybe the marching band was too much? Or the arrival alarm sounded by Jacob as he released air slowly from an inflated balloon to produce a loud squeaking sound? And yes, we did all gather behind a giant banner that read “WELCOME HOME, CAR!” in bold blue letters and bust through the paper like a high school football team, BUT WHO DOESN’T?
To his credit, the delivery man gathered himself quickly and greeted each of us in turn; he shook hands and introduced himself seventeen times. Next, we all piled into the car for a quick test drive. The car ran beautifully considering it was carrying a little extra weight. It clearly isn’t built to hold seventeen people, but I guess it will have to do. The delivery man looked a little bemused as we tumbled out of the parked car as the circus clown music played in the background.
He gave us a little smile and wave as he drove away in his truck, leaving the car behind to enjoy its new home. We gathered in a small pack, waved, and sang goodbye in unison like the partygoers at Captain Von Trapp’s dinner party in The Sound of Music.
We then took turns wearing the black Carvana trucker hat that came in the gift bag. There was only one hat, for some reason, so we had to improvise.
When the excitement finally subsided, the kids and I made the hour-long drive home under the cover of darkness. On our way home, one more amazing thing happened: all three kids fell asleep. That never happens anymore. I guess the excitement was too much for them. But, who can blame them? Nights such as this only come around once in a blue moon.
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