(who sounded suspiciously like his frugal Uncle Pete) countered, "Leo, you make $55,000 a year. After taxes and rent, that $700 is half your 'fun money.' One flat tire and you're cooked."
Leo stood in the middle of the showroom, the scent of "New Car" hitting him like a heavy cologne. Before him sat a midnight-blue SUV—the one from the commercials. It had massaging seats, a panoramic sunroof, and a monthly payment that felt like a light punch to the gut. buying a car based on income
He had $5,000 saved. For the SUV, that wasn't even 10%. (who sounded suspiciously like his frugal Uncle Pete)
Two years later, Leo pulled up to a trailhead in his silver sedan. His friend pulled up next to him in a flashy truck—the kind Leo almost bought. His friend looked exhausted, complaining about working overtime just to cover the "beast's" insurance. It had massaging seats, a panoramic sunroof, and
At 24, Leo had just landed his first "real" paycheck. His brain was doing a frantic dance between two versions of himself.
Leo pulled out his phone and looked at a crumpled note he’d written: