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02.24.98     Well, the highlight of my life this week has to be car shopping.  I have developed situations in my life where another car would be highly beneficial  <wow, what a canned statement>  Anyway, I have had experiences in the past, but for some reason, this time, it seems so much more educational.  I think the award goes to… a low budgeted spending amount.  Okay, I think I have somewhere in the area of two thousand five hundred.  What’s a person to do to find the most car for the buck?  Legally?  Intelligent shopping.

Well, I have heard a few theories on the solution, but my gut feeling gravitates toward looking in the paper and searching for old cars built in the late eighties by any foreign company located in Japan.  First off, this really pisses off some of my acquaintances who are of the red-neck family tree.  “You gotta buy American, I tell ya… Them goddamn foreigners (word has been strategically replaced by something more suitable) can’t really build anything worth a penny.  I should know, I’ve grown up in this country…blah blah blah.”

Response – “Gosh there Tex, is your front tooth there missing?  Or, did it just slip into your top pocket of your overalls…again.”

<Anyway> that’s a touchy subject with many people.

So, where do I look to find such bargains and great deals?  Should I go to a car dealer to look for a good reliable inexpensive automobile?  I thought about that.  Well, it has been suggested that I should go to private sellers and start by buying a paper, and calling people.  Also, I subscribed to this local electronic mailing list of want ads.  Now, I receive shopping updates on a daily basis about everything from reusable diapers to RVs.

<Okay> so after a few days of calls, and emails, my statistical ingenious mind derives that only one third of messages from strangers get answered.

1:  Well, my first experience was an award winner.  I saw an advertisement about an 88 IROC Z28, loaded with all options, painted in racing colors, and was noted to be in mint condition.  Upon seeing this ad, I decided to call.  It turns out that it is a car dealership located in the town of Batavia.  It was not a private seller, but from the sounds of it, this car sounds great.  Growing a little excited and impatient I head out on my estimated thirty-mile trip.  Well, it turns out to be a sixty-mile trip…each way.  After a hefty journey, I finally arrived at the dealership.  It was really a house with land around it.  Ten cars laid up against the road, and a room at the side of the house was where the office was located.  I scanned all the cars in the front, and saw no sign of the IROC.  I figured that I should just get to the point, enter the office and ask about it.  Upon entering the office, I found a chaotic group of people hovering over an overcrowded brown wooden desk.  At the head of the desk sat an elder man going through a really rough mid-life crisis.  He wore a toupee that was obviously dyed black, a bathrobe with the Caesar’s Emblem embroidered over the left chest, half open showing his bare naked dyed black hairy chest.  And to top it all off, he was tanned to a crisp.  One of his helpers noticed me and came out from the rear of the office.

     “Can I help you?”
     “Yes, I called about the 88 IROC Z28.”
     Looking a little unsettled, “Where did you travel from?”
     “Rochester, well, Webster to be exact.  I came from work.”
      Looking a little more unsettled and looking down, “Man, he’s gotta stop doing that…” He paused and I knew that whatever he had to say after that was not going to be delightful.  He looked up and down, thought to himself and started his explanation,“Well, the car is not here.  It’s at…umm…the paint shop.  It has a few dings in it and it’s getting cleaned up.  Can I interest you in something else today?”
     Needless to say, I was slightly…pissed.  I was not going to be shoved around so easily like that.  My voice grew a little stern, “I just drove all the way from Webster to see this car that I just spoke to someone on the phone with.  And suddenly, it’s at the paint shop?”
     “We have a host of other cars.  Can I interest you in a 96 Firebird?”
     I knew he was not listening to me at this point and figured I should say something to get his attention, “Sure, let’s do it for two thousand.”  He did not say anything, but giggled a little.  I offered a suggestion, “Tell you what.  The car is at the shop?  I just traveled all this way to see this car.  Let’s just go see it at the shop.  It should be open.  At least let me get a look at it.”
     He hesitated, but finally agreed.

I followed him in my car.  We traveled up the road, both paved and unpaved, and about five minutes later, we approached a little house.  In the front of the house was a dull yellow 88 IROC Z28, with two flat tires.  I looked around and looked at him.  This was not a paint shop, and he knew it.  This car was not in mint condition and he knew it.  I figured after coming all this way, I was going to at least inspect it.  He did not have the keys with him.  I tested the driver’s side door and it was unlocked.  I looked to him, and he looked away.  I opened the door creating a loud creaking sound.  I thought the door was going to fall off.  Upon entering the tilted car, it smelt of waterlog, and he knew it.

2:  90 Toyota Camry, good condition – the mailnote came streaming over the net and onto my laptop, “You have mail!”  Quickly, I go to the Edmunds site and realize that this car is grossly underpriced.  Growing a little excited, quickly, I called the number listed and spoke to a woman who was selling it.  I made the appointment to see it.  Apparently, she just wants to get rid of it upon buying a newer car.  No long journey to see this one either – thus, two good signs.

The test drive goes okay.  It was not as delightful as I was hoping, alike a new car, but it was excellent for the price.  Ironically, she did not seem aware of the car’s worth and it seemed like quite the steal at the asking price.  A sneaky playful feeling came over me and I cleverly remembered the slight trick of offering less than the asking price – just to see what happens.  Hey, why not.  After all, it is part of the game, is it not?  And, this my friends, is why we do not go to car dealers for good inexpensive cars – they know how to play the game better than us!

     I leaned over the hood, looking down onto the engine, I sighed a little and shook my head. Murmuring slightly to myself, I made the impression of making complicated pessimistic calculations in my head.  I knew she was watching me and waited for the proverbial nervous interruption.  I started the conversation, “This is a…good car you have here…somewhat.  I was just wondering.  Was this car in an accident?”
     “Not that I am aware of…”
     I tweaked one of the wires, “This here just does not seem right.”  I was hoping that she did not have a working knowledge of the car, for I would have looked like a real fool, for I have no working knowledge of cars.  Well, I do know how to change the oil.  “Well…”  I pretended to make some more calculations in my head, “…would you be willing to take a little less?”  I already knew that it was a steal at the asking price.
     “How much were you thinking?” she hesitated.
     I suddenly felt like the next few words were going to reflect the weight of conversation.  I wondered how I was going to word it, so it would cast it’s hypnotic spell.  Finally, I knew the words, “How about twenty-two hundred?”
     She thought to herself and answered sternly, “Well, I have someone else looking at it too, and I want to wait to see if he is willing to come back with an offer.  He has come by to see the car twice already and noted that he would call back tomorrow.  How about I call you back on Monday and let you know how it works out?”

It was at that point where I felt like giggling and saying, “Just kidding,” throwing the money at her, jumping into the Camry and driving away with insane laughter, but I knew that there was no going back.  She stated that she would let me know by Monday.  Maturely, I thanked her for her time.  Boy, I guess trickery does not pay.

3:  88 Nissan Sentra, excellent condition – This one took two attempts to see.  The first time, I got utterly lost by pretty wimpy directions.  We connected on the phone again, and tried again Sunday with a new set of directions.

I drove up to the place.  It turned out to be located on farmland.  Along with a barn, was a farmhouse.  After parking my car, a pleasant man in a beige jacket approached me and introduced himself.  Looking over at the house, I can see a woman holding a baby watching us from behind a screened door.  In about two minutes I was presented with the car.  Nice.  Red, Ground effects, spoiler, custom wheels.  I remember the advertisement requesting only nineteen hundred.

     “This looks great.  There’s no rust anywhere?”  I asked.
     “Nope.  We’ve kept it pretty clean; my wife and I.  The reason we had to get rid of it is that we need another car -- this being a two-seater.  It’s hard to get the baby seat in and out of the back.”
     I looked in the back and noticed the baby seat.  “Hey, congratulations on the baby.  Must be really nice.”  I smiled and he smiled back.  He seemed proud with an All-American innocent smile.  Steering the conversation back, I looked over toward the car, “Looks good -- really good.  You two have done a great job.”
     “Thank you.”
     “The body looks good.  How’s the engine?  Is everything mechanically sound?  Are there any repairs needed?”
     “Well, for the most part it is in great shape.  But, I have to tell you that it does leak a little oil.  A small amount.”
     Wanting to believe that this was the deal of the century, I encouraged some assurance on the matter, “Well, a lot of older cars do that.  It can be expected right?”  I smiled.
     His voice grew a little shaky, “Well, it leaks slightly more than just a little.”  He pinched his fingers together to emphasize.
     “How much are we talking about?” I delved into the matter.
     He cleared his throat and answered, “About a quart a week.”
     A slight pause developed in the conversation.
     I wanted to leave tactfully, “I’m going to think about this one.  I have a few cars to look at over the week, and in a few days, if I am interested I’ll give you a call.”
     It was at this point that I realize that he really wanted to sell the car, and his family probably needed the money.  “I know that there are other Sentras out there that sell for less, but I know this one is cleaner.  I have taken care of it for many years and performed all the needed maintenance myself.  I’m an honest man.  I always have been.  That’s what my family and I believe in.  I know that lots of other people would never divulge that type of information, but I cannot do that…”

I thanked him for his time.  Actually, I felt a little horrible leaving, but it was time for me to go.  As I drove away, I looked over to the house and noticed his wife still watching from behind the screened door with baby in hand, anxious to hear the outcome.  Looking in my rear-view mirror, I noticed as he walked slowly hunched over into the barn instead of the house.
 

The journey continues. <vroom vroom>
 

<streaming newsfeed> Last minute update –Peter gets a call back on Monday  and gets offered the Toyota Camry at the reduced price.  Looks like we have a winner…"hmmm.. maybe trickery does pay." <smile>

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