It just so happened that the local newspaper (remember those?) had a slew to choose from. The list was mind-boggling. But since I was driving a Camry at the time, I decided to start with those. Cheapest one? $2500. A 1986 model that was only a mile away from my college alma mater. Called up the owner. It turned out he was a nouveau-riche doctor from Emory who enjoyed his old Camry so much, he bought another one. So much for originality. But hey! I had a Camry too! What could go wrong?
Well, I was already suspicious when I arrived at his place and saw the Camry running . . . with nobody in it. I knocked on the door. We shook hands. I got the keys. We went. A mile down the road I made a turn. Grooaann!!! Swish! Swish! The Camry had water in the trunk and four very tired shocks. By the time we went through the third turn I was daydreaming of old caves and wondering what would be the kindest way to say, “No way!”
He asked me if I wanted to take it on the highway and I said, “Yeah, sure!” Why the hell not? It was only time and I was poor, so time didn’t really mean that much. We got on the highway. It wasn’t that bad. But not really good. I turned off the interstate and that’s when one of the City of Atlanta’s finest saw us.
Red light . . . siren . . . holy shit! I was being pulled over. When he asked me for the license and registration, I gave him my future fugitive picture and said in the most cowardly manner, “Sir, the car belongs to him.” “Where’s your tag?” said the cop. “Don’t have one” said the nouveau-riche shmuck next to me. I was tempted to throw a quick right hook but instead I just counted the few moments I had before incarceration.
When the policeman found out that Dr. Doogie Dumbfuck didn’t have insurance for the car either, I began seeing more red. Another police car. Another police car. A tow truck. Twenty minutes, and I was standing in shorts in 40 degree weather with nowhere to go. When my enlightened co-pilot asked if he could get a ride, “Walk!” would be the policeman’s answer. Thankfully we were only two miles away from my wife’s work place.
I was nice. Very nice. A bit philosophical . . . and freezing my balls off. Finally we made it to my wife’s workplace and I offered to take the guy home. When he asked where her car was, I pointed to the bashed up burgundy boat and said, “This is it!”
In the next few moments, my newfound acquaintance became introduced to the mostly foam passenger seat and a $20 mini boom box next to it that was tuned to The Mamas & the Papas. When he asked what type of work my wife did, I mentioned her work at an interfaith TV station that was full of amazingly normal people. No one could proselytize. No one could ask for funds. And no one could put down another religion.
Atlanta has a H-U-G-E religious community and many of the largest mainstream ones were involved with it. When he found out that I was planning on going to grad school for teaching he bluntly said, “Look, you’re a nice guy. If you paid me $500 all you would need to do is pay the impound fee and it’s yours.” “Damn, thanks,” I said . . . and that’s how I drove and bought my first used car. A 1986 silver Toyota Camry LE with 129k.
Steven,The camry story is priceless. I find your background interesting. How in the world did you make the leap from an interfaith television station to if you excuse the term “used car jockey”?Talk about selling someone short.At first, I stereotyped you. The image that came to mind is one those nugget ring bandits that I encounter each week in the lanes at Manheim Atlanta or Georgia dealers. Obviously, your much more than the run of the mill used car dealer.
I’ve bought my share of used cars from private sellers over the years, and it’s been my experience that almost no one tells the truth about the condition or history of the car. The rare exceptions have been poor people. Maybe that’s why they were poor, they just couldn’t lie in a world that demands it. On the other hand, the biggest liars, and all-round nasty creeps, were private sellers that lived in nice houses in up-scale towns.
Great story Steve. I agree you background is interesting.
A few questions, how long did you own the Camry, did you spend much on repairs? What did you major in in college?
I too have bought quite a few cars privately over the years and agree most sellers lie and embellish the condition of their used iron. I have gotten one or two bad ones back in the day but with age my backyard mechanical aptitude and knowledge has grown and it would be pretty hard to “stick” me now. If I’m suspicious I just walk away or get a real mechanic to check out the car.
Great story. Here’s one of mine.
I had just finished cycling across Europe, (after dropping out of grad school) and had moved to Oregon with my then girlfriend. I needed to buy a car as the bike alone wasn’t cutting it for me.
While walking around the campus at the U of O, I saw a white ’65 Dodge Dart Station with a perfect red vinyl interior, and a For Sale sign in the window with a price of $650. It turned out the car was owned by a co-ed who lived in the dorm, and couldn’t keep it due to parking hassles.
She had inherited the car from her uncle, an engineer. The uncle, who had owned the car since new, had also passed to her three spiral notebooks with an entry for every gasoline purchase, the corresponding date and mileage, every tune-up, and every other incidental. This guy was the definition of Anal from the Handbook of Psychiatry. But man, could he ever maintain a car.
Anyway, I loved the car like crazy, (my parents had owned a ’63 with the same slant six) but when I checked it out, I found a serious flaw. The car had a cracked block. It was a visible hairline crack about three inches long that weeped when the car got up to temperature. Otherwise, the car was perfect. It had just turned over for the second time, (I had the notebooks). The cracked block was heartbreaking.
I checked the notebook. It had been two years since the uncle had changed the coolant. I went back to the dorm and asked the girl if she had taken the car to the mountains recently. She said, that she had. Then I asked her if she had ever changed the anti-freeze since getting the car the year before. She said no, and asked why. I told her about the cracked block and she understood what had happened. When parking overnight at Mount Hood in December, one must be sure the anti-freeze is up to snuff.
I told her that I wasn’t interested in the car. Then she through me a curve. “Would you pay $75 for it?”
“No,” I said. “That would be too little. I will pay you $125.”
The deal was struck. Soon after I discovered J.B. Weld. I drained the coolant, cleaned and sanded the block, prepped the surface, and applied the paste along the crack about 1/8 inch thick and 3/8 inch wide. I let it dry for two days and filled the car with fresh coolant. Over the next two and a half years, and several regional trips of over 500 miles, it never leaked. Great car. How I lost it is another and sadder story.
Gotta defend the private party seller. Every time I’ve listed a car in the paper or Craigslist, I’ve had the most surreal phone conversations ever. People looking for used cars from private parties share the following characteristics:
1) They can’t read an advertisement or understand automotive terms. I once had twenty separate callers ask the following about a 1987 four cylinder Mustang: “Has it got a V-8?” The advertisement clearly stated it was a four cylinder manual. In the end, no one came to see the car, and the car went to my cousin. He still has it four years later.
2) They want to buy a five to eight year old car with NO defects. If you mention normal wear or tear during the phone conversation, the conversation is over.
3) They think private party sellers are a financial institution. I’ve had any number of folks ask me to take a partial down, and they’ll make monthly payments. Hey if your folks, relatives, friends, and ESPECIALLY the bank won’t finance you, what’s MY motivation?
Over the years I’ve learned it’s just simpler to evade specific questions and let the buyer come and evaluate the car on their own. I’m not looking to lie to anyone, but I’m sure not very sharing over the phone.
Sometimes selling a high mileage old car/truck at a consignment sale works pretty good. I have been pleased with the results of the last three vehicles we sold that way.
You have to take what you can get, but if you sell in the spring and clean the vehicle up well it seems to work, at least for me.
It avoids the buyer/seller contact and the waste of time with the clueless. I think the auctioneer earns the sales commission so I don’t feel bad about paying it. And the check comes in the mail with no hassle.
97escort: “Sometimes selling a high mileage old car/truck at a consignment sale works pretty good. I have been pleased with the results of the last three vehicles we sold that way.”
Are you talking about auctions open to the public? With commissions around 15%? Did you think you netted more money than CarMax would pay? Based on Steven’s stories of how little he pays, I’d be afraid of getting less than salvage value.
3) They think private party sellers are a financial institution. I’ve had any number of folks ask me to take a partial down, and they’ll make monthly payments. Hey if your folks, relatives, friends, and ESPECIALLY the bank won’t finance you, what’s MY motivation
These guys can be so creative,
tell me story about his child support, so he will pay me 25% down, drive for a while if it runs well he’ll maybe pay me a hundred here & there with no specific time period.
Another guy offered me 500 for my 3000 Merc. Said engines are all bad at or around 190,000 miles.
I told him Merc engines are known for longevity. He pretends not to know this.
I told him u can buy a merc for 500 but not this car.
And a 500 merc can be a reality, as USA has an Afro-American Presidente. It used to be a dream. Now is a reality.
He told me watch what I say as I am a racist.
I ask since when Afro-American is considered racist.
I told him the ” N ” word, Chinks ,Chinaman, Colour folks are all racist.
Being an Asian I dont need to step on another race either.
Some i tell him to take the bus or a MTB will be more Green & healthier.
Once I was looking for a used car in Houston. I answered an ad for a used Toyota Corolla. The guy seemed a bit dodgy, but he agreed to let me take it to my mechanic for an inspection.
When I returned to my mechanic to pick it up, he grinned and said “Let me show a couple of things.” He then pulled out a small but fat bag of pot from the ashtray and a loaded pistol out of the trunk.
Damn I was pissed off. If I had been pulled over the cops would have a damn hard time buying my story that I didn’t know. As they say, “Possession is 9/10’s of the law.” So I called the owner and told him to come get his damn car himself.
looky u didnt try to enter Republic of Canuckstan.
Onr guy came up to pick up my speakers, he had 2 magazines of AR15 rifle. he is a SWAT team sharp shooter instructor, still tokk him 1/2 hr to get it cleared. The clips were no doubt confiscated. He had some Alcohol residue in his system is Zero toloerance here buddy!
His car was impounded, I had to use my lic to get it out of tow compund. He had a 24 hrs suspension.
We kind of agree that eh go home quietly and get another lic back in Spokane Wa.
He got across the line safe.
He did have a couple of AR 15 which he did left it with friends in Seattle, but forgotten the loaded clips.
Oh welcome to Canada.
These border Nazi guards are not to be taken lightly.
many yrs ago, under Raygun admin, it was zero tolerance too, even a wacky tobacky butt will have to give up your ownership to Uncle Sam.