It's me or the car!

Take a guess at what the minimum wage was in 1977.  Go ahead; take a guess.  Ok, I will tell you.  It was $2.30 an hour.  That means a person making minimum wage, working a 40-hour week would make $92 per week before taxes.  That is what Mark Searle was making in 1977 while we were engaged.  He was working as a parts runner for Bresee Chevrolet, as I mentioned in an earlier story.  He was still driving his loud, leaking, rumbling neon green dodge challenger at the time.  One day, he pulled into my parent’s driveway and was grinning like a Cheshire cat.  He had a brochure of some kind tucked in his pocket.  It was a beautiful day and we were sitting out on the carport at my parent’s house visiting.  He announced, “want to see what I bought today?” And I said, “sure,” thinking that it was going to be something exciting for both of us.  He hands me a “1977 Camaro” booklet with a shiny new car on the cover.  I stared at it for a minute, a bit stunned.  He showed me the color he chose which was a very dark forest green, the fancy gold rims he selected, and the upgraded stereo system.  He was beside himself with joy.  I asked him how much this fabulous idea was going to cost and he proclaimed, “$5,200, but I only had to put $500 down on it!”  I couldn’t believe it.  But oh, it was true.  I was about to find out that my husband-to-be liked to buy expensive, shiny and elite things.  I stood up and of course, because that’s how I handle all things, I cried.  I demanded that he cancel the order immediately.  He wasn’t even making $4700 a YEAR and he bought a car for more than that.  How in the world were we going to afford something that expensive?  I was livid.  I told him to get the $500 back and cancel the order.  Well, he said he didn’t want to.  So, I took my ring off my finger and through tears handed it back to him and said.  “It’s me or the car.”  And he got up, left the ring on the little table in the carport and walked to his car and drove away.  I went over to Dawn Dusenbury’s house, a single woman living next door to my mom and dad.  Dawn was the best counselor in the world.  She listened as this 19-year old girl cried and cried and cried and screamed and yelled and spewed the selfishness of it all.  Then we had hot chocolate and I went home, my face streaked with tears and my nose all red.  Mark didn’t call me that night at his usual 7:00 pm, and I was ok with that.  The next day, I did not hear from him either.  I was stuck between being broken-hearted and angry.  The next day, as I was leaving work, he was sitting outside of the building in his green car.  I was so relieved to see him.  He said he tried to get the deposit back, but the car had already been ordered so he was unable to do that.  We talked about having a better way of communicating about spending “our” money and agreeing that we needed a different car, but probably not one that was so expensive.  He was able to take the $500 deposit and put it toward our little red Chevy Chevette that cost $2200 brand spanking new!  It had no air conditioning and a 1.4 liter engine that Mark says was smaller than most motorcycles.  It had absolutely no personality at all and you had to push it to go up a hill, but we could afford it and I loved that little car.  Mark chose me, and the little red Chevette.   I loved that choice!