A Big Twuck
We didn’t even make it around the block before the battery died again and we were stranded by the side of the road in mid-turn at a stop sign. The salesguy I was riding with called for someone to drive over a rental and pick us up. When we got back to the showroom the sales manager called me over and said he wanted to talk numbers. I literally laughed in his face. “I don’t think so,” I said, still holding back the guffaws.
“Why not!?” the manager asked, incredulous.
“Dude, it broke down on the test drive,” I said.
“Yeah, but we’ll change that battery for you!”
I recalled something my father once told me, a cautionary tale. He said he had tried to buy a used car with some sort of obvious defect. The dealership told him of course they would fix that right up… if he just signed the papers they’d have it squared away while the financing was settled. In the end the problem was not properly fixed and the lesson my dad learned and passed to me was, “Don’t buy a used car with issues thinking they’ll make it right before you go. They won’t because once it’s yours, they don’t care anymore.” Words to live by.
“I appreciate the offer,” I said, still laughing, “But I don’t buy cars that don’t make it through the test drive.” The manager was dejected but conceded that there wasn’t much he could do if I didn’t like the truck to begin with.
Nik and I picked up the Honda with the understanding that the maintenance had been handled but the suspension problem would have to be dealt with at a later time so we made a follow-up appointment and headed over to the Chevy dealership. The last truck I had which was a hand-me down from my dad (and which I absolutely loved, by the way—I told you trucks are in my DNA) was a Chevy S10 and it ran forever so I figured it was a good place to try.
The salesguy that greeted us there was a paunchy ex-Marine with a closely shaved head in a slightly earlier stage of male pattern baldness than I. He showed us around a bit and we got to talking price ranges. He said he had a co-worker who had just traded in his 2500 Silverado (in handsome dark grey) and it wouldn’t be ready for sale for about a week but if I wanted I could give it a spin.
He brought out some guy’s keyring complete with silly keychain ornamentation and what I assumed was a house key. The truck drove well and had a nice, spacious extended cab. There was an aftermarket stereo system installed that sounded nice and I felt good driving it. The problem was that it hadn’t been inspected yet so there were a lot of signs that the previous owner hadn’t taken very good care of his ride. That was a problem because I was pretty sure that if things like the seat brackets and dashboard went unattended under this guy’s ownership that things like oil changes and tire rotation had also let slide. As a chronic procrastinator myself, I know the warning signs. There is no solidarity in that particular club, I assure you.
The salesman told me it would be about a week before the car could be ready to sell and he didn’t even have a clear idea what the price would be but the range he quoted sounded like it would be kind of a headache to talk him down to my comfort zone. So I told him I’d be back in a week if I couldn’t find anything else in the meantime.
We headed home after that, deciding to pick up the hunt the next morning.
What a Difference a Dude Makes
When Nikki bought her cars (the Saturn was “hers” and the Civic was also her purchase) we went to one place each: The Saturn dealership for the SC2 and the Honda dealership for the Civic. And both times we looked at exactly one car: The one we ended up buying.
I didn’t protest (much) at the time; I figured that my approach to buying a car would be drastically different because I’m both cheap and picky whereas Nik is more impulsive but determined. In fact when it came to buying the Civic she didn’t even want to see other options: Once she saw the blue ’05 four-door she was adamant and nothing was going to stop her from owning that car.
Actually shopping for a car for myself was a new experience. I have only ever driven either generous gifts or hand-me-downs. My parents bought a Chevy Corsica when I was in high school and after my mom bought her Saturn my folks let me drive around the Corsica for a couple of years before I totaled it in an unfortunate incident involving a garbage truck. After that I drove my dad’s truck around (which like I said before, I loved) even after I made a serious rookie driving mistake and turned into a cement post, severely damaging the front bumper (but not rendering it undriveable). After that my dad took it back and fixed it up to sell and I began driving his old Geo Prism around for a few years, eventually he gave me the pink slip and it ran great until it developed some serious electrical issues that would have cost more than the car’s worth to fix so I donated it to charity to get a tax break.
Then I bought a Ford Explorer from my father-in-law that was the second car I really liked to drive (I liked the Corsica but not for the car, more for the fact that it was a car) but I had to sell it back to him when I got laid off and money got pretty tight. Then Nik and I shared the Saturn for years before we got the Civic and I drove the Saturn for about a year until it’s recent issues.
The point here is that this is the first time I was going to be actually choosing the car I would be driving. This meant that I was going to do this right or not at all.
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