. . . in the back seat of my car.
Ammon mentioned that the local nursery usually has a big sale the day after Christmas, so we went over before I left to drive back to DC. Turns out the nursery was not open this year, but as we were about to leave empty handed and in the depths of despair, the owner (who Ammon recognized) drove up in his giant pickup truck. I told him I wanted to buy a barrel and he told me to come back in March. I said no way and that I would pay cash.
So now I have a barrel in the back seat of my car.
Good thing it's not leaving rust streaks on the back of your passenger seat…