During the years we dated, one of the things I didn’t particularly like about the man I loved was his extreme carefulness with money. By 1990 I had embarked on post graduate studies at a university in Perth, 200 kms north of Anthony’s farm so we would take turns visiting each other on the days he wasn’t milking the cows and/or I wasn’t either in class or working.
I was renting a funny little bedsit and working at a local nursing home part time. Needless to say, I was pretty much living hand to mouth in typical student fashion. I drove a terrible old bomb of a car which continually broke down but I was used to that.
One night, on the eve of one of Anthony’s visits to me, I knocked off work and my car wouldn’t go. It turned out to be the gear box which I knew would be a major job and very expensive. I think I took a taxi home, something I could ill afford.
By the time Anthony arrived the next afternoon, my car had been towed to a mechanic and I was a bit down in the dumps about having no transport but Anthony assured me that he had a good idea. He told me to jump into his rather beautiful car and we took off.
Oh, I thought to myself with a little cartwheel in my heart, he is going to take me to a dealership and buy me a brand new car! I didn’t say anything as we meandered through the suburbs; I didn’t want to ruin his surprise. He was finally beginning to realize my worth, and my years of undying loyalty (although it did occur to me that he had an ulterior motive as, without a car, I wouldn’t be able to go down and visit him so easily).
Nevertheless it was lovely to realize that finally Anthony was going to open up the purse strings of both his wallet and heart to me. I had been going through a phase of longing for a marriage proposal but, oh well, a new car would suffice for the moment.
“Nearly there,” Anthony said, grinning at me. Indeed, we were in an area of Perth full of car yards. My excitement grew as he pulled into one of them. I was slightly disappointed to see that all of the cars were definitely second hand but beggars couldn’t be choosers I thought, philosophically.
“Why are you frowning, Jules?” Anthony said, laughing fondly, “I am going to rent you a car for a couple of days until yours is fixed!”
Oh!
I looked up at the sign above the office door; it said “RENT-A-BOMB.”
jmgoyder 
hahahahaha
How you kept from killing him, is beyond me!
There are certain things many men just don’t get…😉
Ha Ha Ha, oh expectations can get us every time.
You are a master of the one liner at the end of the post.
I get how you must have felt, but he thought he was helping
Good story.
Coming from a family of VERY frugal immigrants, I took the rent-a-heap solution for granted. My husband has mixed emotions about my frugality.
What a blow that was. You’re right. He was a tight wad!! lol