Maui Cruiser

Young Professional, Looking for a Maui Cruiser, OBO

According to Casselle's dictionary of Hawaiian Terminology a "Maui Crusier" can be defined as follows:

Maui Cruiser; (Noun): A car under 2,000$ with at least 5 things going wrong with it. Either broken air-conditioning, a car door that won't open or close, giant bumps and bruises, a radio that won't turn off, a key hole with no lock, the smell of a dead animal, and/or a clinkity, clunk sound that warns of impending doom. In addition to the above items a Maui Cruiser must always be accompanied by a really good story from the person who is trying to sell you the car.

Everyone on Maui has a story and what better way to tell your tale than when cruising with a newby from the main land (that would be me) who is test driving your car. I have met such a diverse amount of people and have learned more about my new home than any book could ever teach me, just by trying to buy a freakin car.

Though I think I have finally ended this long search for my new vehicle (a 1500$ Jeep that predates Kelley Blue Book, has a window that won't roll up and a suspiscious smell) I feel sad to say goodbye to the car buying adventure that has provided me with oodles of enjoyment, wonder, and at some times, fear.

My search began with the missionary couple. They tried their best to convert me as I drove their Volvo over the speed bumps, fearing that at any moment the clankity-clankity of the rumbling engine would explode and envelope me in the burning fires of hell. I came close to accepting their offer of making me "born again," at least as some sort of insurance policy if their car in fact did kill me.

After that frightening experience karma rewarded me by bringing a succession of 3 gorgeous men. Their gorgeousness however did not blind me to the fact that their cars presented me with the same clankity, clunk, junk-junk problem. Oh, what to do?

I then traveled to the bay where I met the crew of the Maui Pride and took a spin in an Explorer that had a branch as a car door handle. Yes, I am serious. A branch, as in a piece of wood from a tree, functioning as a car door handle. Though I was impressed by the "earthiness" of this vehicle, and impressed with the owner's fabulous life as a sea person I was not impressed by the car.

This was followed by the Toyota Tercel which came with an hour long story about the owners most recent escapades with the law. It was a quiet night and I enjoyed the entertainment but the story did not sell me on the car which was so banged up it looked like some children with strong arms and large bats had thought it was a piñata.

Alas, I was about to give up my search until I saw the mighty red car of my dreams pull up in front of Borders Books. The body is faded to an old rusty red. The window does not roll up. There is a smell akin to that of an old woman who has lived with too many cats. But she is mine. All mine.

So I believe my car buying adventure is in its final chapter. I would be grieving except for a new adventure has already presented itself:

Young Professional, Looking for a Bed, Preferably with out Bugs in it, OBO