Something like that

July 2015 is an amazing month. No, it's not because it's home to my birthday and that of our great nation, although both are great reasons to celebrate with cake. The reason July 2015 is so amazing is because this is the last month the Newlin household has a car payment. Of course, our house is no stranger to debt, as college, a master's degree and a law degree will drive nearly anyone to the financial edge (and to the bottle), but at least after July 2015, we'll have one less bill to pay�for a while. I remember the day Dieter came into my life quite well. It was July 1, 2010 and my 12 year-old Honda Accord, Millie, was at the end of days. I had just been told by the mechanic that she needed new brakes and at that point I knew what I had to do; I had to pull the plug. I had to let her go. Of course, I had to drive ever-so-gently to the dealership without needing the use of breaks and then I could let her go, but still. I knew it was time. I took that last ride down to the Volkswagen dealership telling her how I cherished our time together, hoping she wouldn't realize her demise was upon us, but when I turned into the parking lot she let out a groan. She knew. She knew it was her last ride. Unfortunately, so did the car salesman, Barry, who greeted me and was all-too-happy to assist me since he knew Millie wasn't going to be much of a trade-in. Like any lawyer, I had done my homework ahead of time and knew exactly what I wanted and how much I wanted to spend. I knew Millie was on her last axle for some time so I had prepared myself for this moment. Before I said anything about what I had in mind I told the salesman I wasn't interested in discussing a sales price if he wasn't going to give me 0 percent interest on a loan. It was July 1st and they had been running a 0 percent financing program that ended June 30. I told him if he wouldn't do it, I knew another Volkswagen dealership would (knowing full well I didn't know that at all). He pretended to talk to his manager about it, although I'm pretty sure they were just discussing their lunch orders since I heard "extra cheese" in the conversation. He came back and said that was doable. Yeah. I know. From there he began the small talk. He asked me what I did for a living and I said what I always say; "I work for a law firm." This is 100 percent true and not at all a lie. I do in fact work for a law firm. I always love waiting to see how people respond to this answer and Barry didn't disappoint. "So you're like a paralegal or something?" "Yeah," I replied. "Something like that." Because, well, it is something like that. I just didn't want him to know I was a lawyer. I had the broken down car thing going for me and I had spilled taco sauce on my dress at lunch so I was looking especially disheveled. I needed a good deal and this was the best way to get it. We walked around the lot while Barry tried to sell me on nearly everything, but I already knew who I wanted. I saw him from across the lot and I swear he winked at me, although it could have been the scorching sun reflecting off of his body. Either way, I was smitten. I wanted to get to know him better so I took him for a test drive and immediately I fell in love. I'm German so part of me figured it was just two German models understanding each other and enjoying ourselves. After all, we both looked great in natural light. I named him Dieter and told him he was going to become a Newlin that very day. We arrived back at the lot and I began brokering a deal with Barry. It wasn't so much of a deal as a "This is how much I know you spent and this is how much I'm willing to pay today so let's make this happen or I will leave" situation. Barry caved, not so much because he saw the connection I had with Dieter, but probably because he peed his pants a little during the negotiations. (Okay, so maybe I don't know that but let me have this one exaggeration in my story.) After the paperwork was finished Barry came out to help me move everything from Millie to Dieter. He was emptying the trunk and pulled out a Rules of Evidence book. "Hey," he said, "You're a lawyer aren't you?" I looked up at him, gave him a smirk, and gave the typical lawyer answer: I answered him with a question. "What makes you say that?" "This evidence book," Barry said as he pointed to it. "I thought you said you weren't a lawyer," he said indignantly. "No, I said 'something like that,'" I responded, taking the book from him. Realizing he'd been had, Barry looked at me and asked "So when you made that deal with me, you already knew when you came on the lot what you wanted and what you were going to spend, didn't you?" I looked up at Barry with a huge grin and said, "Something like that." Under Analysis is a nationally syndicated column of The Levison Group. Lisa Henderson-Newlin is a shareholder of the law firm McAnany, Van Cleave, and Phillips. She's a contributing writer at NickMom.com and writes a humor website, LisaNewlin.com. Contact Lisa at lhenderson@mvplaw.com or contact Under Analysis by email at comments@levisongroup.com. © 2015 Under Analysis L.L.C. Published: Fri, Jul 17, 2015