And that's only the first question I wanted to ask the loan officer at the Credit Union.
Greg and I were in the Credit Union inquiring about car loan interest rates. We weren't particularly dressed up or adult looking. I think Greg had managed to shave and I had just put my hair up in a matronly bun because I'm having a challenged hair day. But, for the most part Greg's ratty bike messenger bag and my snug fitting Diesel jeans and teeny bopper plastic purse should have put us somewhere in the under 40 age group.
When asked how much we were planning to spend on a new-to-us car, we responded with what I guess was a shockingly low number because the loan officer proceeded to look at us for a few seconds, state, "you know you can't get a loan for a car older than '96" and then ask with an ah-ha exclamation, "oh, is the car for your son?"
Lady there is so much wrong with that I don't even know where to begin.
Do girls not drive cars this decade?
What are you on salary or commission? What do you care?
And this just a short three weeks before my 35th birthday. Way to go, moron loan officer.
If she hadn't given us such a killer interest rate, I may have gauged her eyes out.