A Jeep of Our Dreams

"Okay, hear me out: we need the Jeep."

"Do we, though? Need it? Or do you just want it?"

"I don’t just want it. I want it and I need it."

"Oh, those are totally different."

"They are! Because I can’t need something if I don’t also want it. Wanting it is a prerequisite to needing it."

"That... makes no sense. Like, at all."

"Listen, I’ve done the research. It’s perfect for us."

"For us? You mean for you."

"For us. Us! Think about it. Off-road adventures. Camping trips. Wind in your hair, bugs in your teeth—freedom!"

"Bugs in my teeth? What an irresistible sales pitch."

"I’m serious! Picture it. You and me, cruising through the mountains. The top down, a dog in the backseat."

"We don’t even have a dog."

"We could get one!"

"Ah, so this Jeep comes with a free dog? Is that part of the deal?"

"No, but it’s a lifestyle upgrade. Jeep equals dog. Dog equals happiness. It’s science."

"It’s marketing, and you’re falling for it."

"Okay, what about the safety features? Do you care about safety?"

"Of course I care about safety."

"Good, because the Jeep has airbags. So many airbags."

"You’re telling me every other car doesn’t have airbags?"

"No, but these are Jeep airbags. They’re... I don’t know, rugged or something."

"Rugged airbags. Wow. Sign me up."

"Don’t mock me. I’m trying to enhance our lives."

"Our lives are already fine. What’s wrong with the car we have now?"

"Besides the fact it’s boring? Everything."

"Define ‘boring.’"

"It’s gray."

"It’s silver."

"Exactly. A silver blob. Nobody dreams about driving a silver blob."

"I do. Because it’s paid off."

"So? The Jeep will inspire us to work harder, dream bigger!"

"It’ll inspire us to make car payments for the next five years."

"Come on. What’s money, really?"

"Uh, the thing that keeps a roof over our heads?"

"And what’s the point of a roof if you’re not out there living life?"

"Living life doesn’t require a Jeep!"

"But it helps! Have you seen the ground clearance on those things? You could drive over a rock the size of a microwave."

"When am I ever driving over a rock the size of a microwave?"

"You don’t know! Life throws rocks at you sometimes. Big, microwave-sized rocks."

"Life also throws bills at you. Big, mortgage-sized bills."

"Okay, now you’re being dramatic."

"And you’re being impulsive."

"I’m being visionary."

"You’re being... Jeep-sessed."

"Jeep-sessed? That’s not even a word."

"It is now. Look it up in the dictionary: ‘Jeep-sessed. Adjective. A condition in which one loses all sense of financial responsibility in pursuit of off-road fantasies.’"

"Fine. I’m Jeep-sessed. But you’re dream-phobic."

"Dream-phobic?"

"Yeah! You’re scared to dream big. Scared to chase the adventure!"

"I’m not scared. I just don’t think ‘adventure’ needs to cost thirty-five grand."

"That’s the base model. I was thinking more like forty-two."

"Oh, perfect. Let me just cash out my imaginary offshore account."

"Don’t be sarcastic. Look, I’ve already got a financing plan."

"How? You’re terrible at math!"

"That’s why I used the Jeep website calculator thingy. It’s foolproof."

"Did it tell you how much ramen we’ll be eating if we buy this thing?"

"No, but who doesn’t love ramen? It’s versatile."

"I prefer a diet that includes actual vegetables."

"We can grow vegetables! In the back of the Jeep!"

"Stop. You’re spiraling."

"I’m brainstorming."

"Okay, let’s compromise. We’ll rent a Jeep for a weekend trip and see how we like it."

"Renting is for quitters."

"Renting is for people who don’t want to declare bankruptcy over a car."

"Wow. Drama much?"

"Realism much?"

"Fine. What if I sell my guitar?"

"Your guitar? The one you’ve been trying to learn for three years?"

"Yeah. That’s how serious I am."

"You’ll sell the one thing you’ve spent actual money and time on?"

"Yes! For the Jeep!"

"How noble. Except your guitar is worth, what, two hundred bucks? That’ll cover one tire."

"Okay, so maybe not the guitar."

"Right. Maybe not."

"Alright. Let’s say hypothetically—hypothetically—you agreed. Would you want it in red or green?"

"Neither. I want it in ‘nonexistent.’"

"Wow. That’s harsh."

"Is it? Or is it practical?"

"It’s unadventurous, is what it is."

"Oh, please. I’m plenty adventurous."

"Name one adventurous thing you’ve done this year."

"I went to the farmers’ market that one Saturday it was raining."

"That doesn’t count."

"It does! I got wet! I risked catching a cold for fresh kale!"

"That’s not adventure. That’s... mildly inconvenient."

"Okay, Mr. Jeep. What was your big adventure this year?"

"I tried sushi for the first time."

"You hated it."

"Yeah, but I tried it. And I didn’t need a Jeep to do it."

"Fine. Be boring. Just know, when you’re eighty, you’ll look back and regret not buying that Jeep."

"When I’m eighty, I’ll look back and be glad I still have a retirement fund."

"Retirement? Who retires anymore? We’ll be working until we’re ninety anyway."

"Not if we keep buying Jeeps!"

"Okay, let’s not fight."

"I’m not fighting. I’m just using logic."

"Logic is overrated."

"Says the person trying to finance a Jeep with dreams and ramen noodles."

"I thought you liked ramen!"

"I like it occasionally. Not as a lifestyle."

"You’re impossible."

"And you’re relentless."

"Relentlessly in love with Jeeps."

"And I’m relentlessly in love with being debt-free."

"Debt is temporary. Jeeps are forever."

"That is categorically false."

"Okay, fine. Let’s forget the Jeep."

"Thank you."

"But can we at least test drive one?"

"Why? So you can fall even deeper into this rabbit hole?"

"No! Just so we can... you know, experience it. For closure."

"Closure. Right."

"Yes! Closure. And maybe some photos for Instagram."

"Photos? Are you trying to sell this Jeep to other people now?"

"No, I just think it’d look cool in my feed. Hashtag Jeep life."

"Hashtag bad decisions."

"You’re no fun."

"And you’re too much fun."

"Maybe we balance each other out."

"Maybe. But we’re not buying a Jeep."

"Not yet, anyway."

"Not ever."

"We’ll see."

"No, we won’t."

"Sure we will. I can be very convincing."

"And I can be very stubborn."

"Challenge accepted."

"Oh, for the love of—"

"Just picture it. You and me, the open road, freedom—"

"Let it go!"

"I can’t. Jeep-sessed, remember?"

"And dream-phobic, apparently."

"This is why I love you."

"Why? Because I refuse to let you bankrupt us?"

"Exactly."

"And this is why I love you. Because you’re insane."

"Crazy in love. With you... and a little bit with Jeeps."