See, I’d originally responded to the Craigslist ad to look at an Astro. Turns out the guy had a couple Astros. Perfect. There were options. Unfortunately, both options were pretty craptastic. The first looked appealing because of the wood paneling, which maybe meant I wouldn’t have to cut and build my own. But in person, all the shoddy workmanship became obvious.

Yuck.

The seams were bulging with spray foam. Cut wires fanned out from random cutouts. And a gap in the flooring exposed a layer of grime that looked decades thick. I didn’t look forward to the prospect of gutting it and cleaning out all that toxic gunk. The second Astro was a carpeted monstrosity that actually now I can’t remember what was wrong with it except that I hated it upon sight. So when Vinny, the seller, showed me photos of the ambulance he was selling, I was intrigued. (I was also intrigued by the mailtruck he was trying to pawn off on me, but geezus krise, how would I park that thing?)

The ambulance wasn’t such a looker on the outside, but she was a 2006 Ford E350, with a quoted 105K miles (which was wrong, but later), and the insides were already outfitted with shelves, outlets, lights, and standing room. All I had to do was put a bed in there and I’d be set! I consulted with my friend Michael who I’d dragged along with me. Mulled it over for five minutes — I didn’t want to be tooo impulsive. But the adrenaline was already kicking in. I knew I would get it.

I mean, it seemed like a really good deal.

Vinny said he could probably get more from it at auction where it was going the next day if I didn’t snatch it up right then. Vinny. Who lived in a poolhouse in Canarsie, had better manicured eyebrows than I do, drove a late model Benz coupe, and sold cars out of a sinkhole of a car lot situated next to a wannabe mansion (the lot owner’s) that gated away an aggressive pack of Rottweilers and Pitbull that fully warranted the Beware of Dog sign, times three.

The ambulance, however, was parked in front of his house a few minutes away under a canopy of cherry blossoms, gently cascading to the ground. You understand this contrast, right?

We took it for a spin, listened to the beastly rumble of the V8 engine. The steering wheel had a thing (a catch, a shimmy) which Vinny waved off as me not used to driving a big truck (such a girl!). I should’ve mentioned my history driving PA vans and boxtrucks but I was too distracted by the driving. And the shelves! Did I mention all the shelving?