Member-only story
A Woman Does Not Need a Jeep Like This…
Since the end of last summer, I had driven past the “Slimer” weekly. He had been sitting out front of a local car dealership for months, and after several discussions with the Hubs, I decided to go pick him up.
“Slimer” was a lime-green, jacked-up, 4×4 CJ5 — custom fit with KC Lights, roll cage, and Warn wench.
You see, Papa Mike taught me at a very early age, that there was nothing quite like the joy of a Jeep CJ. From locking the hubs, to mud in your hair, a Jeep CJ mud-riding experience is hard to beat.
I pulled into the lot, parked near the front door, and walked over to “Slimer”. I have purchased my fair share of vehicles [some chalked up to “challenging driving”, and some to boredom], and the salesmen have always come over to us, and offered to share their expertise. Not this time…
I didn’t think much of it then. It was hot, and I sure as heck wouldn’t want to be standing outside with some rando, chatting over an old CJ5. Benefit of the doubt, and debit card in hand, I walked inside the dealership.
I waited by the front door for assistance, but no one came. Awkwardly, I went to the closest office, and asked the lady for help. She smiled, nodded, and quickly paged a salesman.
