Gather round young workers, bright eyed newcomers to the exciting world of gainful employment. Listen. Listen to my tale of woe and, yes, stupidity.
Hearken back to yesteryear, February 2007, to be precise. My most valued possession, and, hence, possessor, namely my 1991 Jeep YJ (project jeep zebra), was nearing the end of its usefulness. It was costing me $600 in repairs a month, and I was unconvinced that it could survive many more off road miles.
I required a new Jeep product. I required this to truly live.
Oh yes. So, I did my due diligence. I researched the latest in the YJ successor, the JK. I found the direct replacement. No frills. A simple Jeep JK Wrangler.
This was my plan: I would drive my old red YJ into the Jeep dealership, walk straight to the red Jeep JK Wrangler and say to the nearest sales person "I am mildly interested in this vehicle. Perhaps we could discuss the terms of a trade in of my fine red YJ, which is in nearly pristine condition. You will give me $5000 for it in trade for this vehicle."
This is what happened: I drove my old red YJ into the Jeep dealership and as I was stepping out of it a salesperson ran up to me with the keys to a black 2007 Jeep JK Rubicon and said "Let's go for a test drive!"
Scant minutes later, I found myself the proud owner of a black Jeep JK Rubicon (her name is Rubi) that cost twice as much as the Jeep I planned to buy. And to add insult to injury, I was given $900 for the old red YJ, apparently I was lucky they wouldn't charge me for turning it into a cube. But, I was able to keep my payments quite low, almost as low as what I had planned to pay for the Wrangler I wanted!
How, you ask? Well, I remembered that I, in keeping with Richs' rule of work #4, I had a sizable "Fuck You" fund built up as a result of many years of well paying jobs, scrimping and saving.
I reasoned that by using my "Fuck You" fund as a down payment, the monthly payments were about what I was paying to keep the YJ repaired every month, and the price of gas was only 95 cents a litre! So what if the Rubicon didn't exactly sip the gas. Additionally, I loved my job, and work was going quite well. We had not missed a paycheque in months!
Oh, how I loved my brand new Rubicon. I was the centre of attention for quite a while. Envious men would hand shopping carts to their wives at Safeway and wander over to ask questions about the jeep. Women were impressed by its, well, impressiveness. Off-road it was like no other vehicle, it put my poor old YJ to shame. In fact, I no longer even admitted that I had ever owned a YJ.
My first inkling of the error in judgement I had made occurred when I told my accountant about my purchase: "A Rubicon!", he exclaimed, "COOL! And stupid!" I laughed off his mockery.
The price of gas rose.
At work, we missed a paycheque. Then two, then four, then they became completely optional. At the time of my layoff I was owed 17 paycheques, a LOT of bonus, a plane ticket to India, and severance pay.
Thus, Rich's Seventh Rule of Work: Don't spend your "Fuck You" fund on a new Jeep.
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