What buying a car taught me about prayer

I walked into the room, looked around, and tried to hide my growing sense of intimidation. The room was full of men (the only woman I saw was the receptionist), fake plants and cubicles abounded, and ESPNs 1 through whatever-number-we’re-up-to were on every TV hung in the room, offering a brief respite to those lured by fate or necessity into this room. I knew who I came to see. I entered this car dealership to research trading in my car, and while I remembered this room from the last time I bought a car, I forgot the atmosphere that tries …