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Authors: R. J. Blacks
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in
white paint on the windshield. A lanky man, dressed in an oversized suit coat
and a colorful tie that doesn’t match, shuffles up to us.
“Hi I’m Carl. What you all
looking for,” he says, with a hint of a southern accent.
“We’re taking a long trip,
and we need something comfortable,” I say.
“How much you looking to
spend?”
“I don’t know, a couple
thousand maybe.”
“Don’t have much
in that price range.”
He looks around,
then points to a 70’s era Cadillac.
How about that
one?”
“Too big and too old’” I say.
“So you want something newer.”
He shuffles over to a tiny
Fiat.
“This is like owning an oil
well. I hope you both have big bladders ‘cause you’ll almost never have to stop
for gas,” he says, guffawing at his own joke.
“Too small,” I say.
He takes us over to a late
model SUV.
“How about this one?”
I notice the sign says
$10,000. He sees me grimace.
“Today’s your lucky day. I
can cut you a special deal on this. Some guy put a deposit on it, never picked
it up. How about, say, $5,000?”
“Our budget is two thousand,”
I say.
He flinches, then scans the
lot.
“Mmmm. It’s going to be tough
to get you something for two thousand.”
Carl walks to the garage,
motions us to follow, and then opens the door.
“This just came in. It’s a PT
Cruiser, late model, good condition. You can have it for... four grand.”
He looks at us with a gleam
in his eye.
The car is lime green with a
sign painted on the side, “Bug-Off Exterminating”. Black cartoon bugs are painted
all over the hood and tailgate as if they’re about to devour the occupants.
Carl notices me frown then
quickly adds: “Blue Book on this is $4,500... after we clean it up and all.
It’s a tremendous deal.”
“What’s blue book?” I whisper
to Will.
Carl overhears me, jumps
right in. “Blue Book is the fair market value of the vehicle,” he says, as if
reciting it from a recent class in car salesmanship. “It’s what dealers go by when
pricing used cars.”
“No... I don’t think so. It’s
over budget,” I say.
“This is a great car, strong
motor, good transmission; we checked it out and everything is fine,” he
insists. “How about three thousand?”
“Well, maybe if you remove
the bugs and sign,” I say.
Carl frowns. “Look, I’ll be
honest with you. It would cost fifteen-hundred to clean this up and repaint.”
He paces the floor then turns to me: “Tell you what; give me cash and it’s
yours for two grand.”
Will opens the hood, checks
the oil and a few other things, then starts the engine. He revs it up a few
times then asks me to check for blue smoke in the exhaust.
“What does blue smoke mean?”
I ask.
“It means the rings are shot.
Don’t ever buy a car with bad rings.”
I look, see no smoke, and give
him the OK sign.
“Let’s take it for a test
drive,” he says.
“Can we?” I ask Carl.
“Of course, like I said we
checked it all out. May I see your license?”
Will hands Carl the newly
printed license.
“Just need a copy,” he says, and
then disappears into the office. A moment later he is back and hands the
license to Will.
Will closes the hood, climbs
into the driver’s seat. I slip into the passenger seat. Will maneuvers the
Cruiser out of the lot and onto the street then proceeds to drive onto a
freeway. He gets the car up to seventy.
“Handles good,” he says.
“It’s got my blessing.”
“Will it get us to Florida?”
“The engine is strong, and
the tires are pretty new. Probably got well serviced if it’s from a business. I
say go for it.”
We return to the car lot;
Carl greets us.
“So... is it a deal?”
“Take a check?” I ask.
“We take everything. Let’s go
inside.”
We follow him into the office
and thirty minutes later I’m driving home in my new “Bug-Mobile”.
I turn to Will. “I hope we
did the right thing.”
“It’s exactly what you need
for a trip like this,” he says.
white paint on the windshield. A lanky man, dressed in an oversized suit coat
and a colorful tie that doesn’t match, shuffles up to us.
“Hi I’m Carl. What you all
looking for,” he says, with a hint of a southern accent.
“We’re taking a long trip,
and we need something comfortable,” I say.
“How much you looking to
spend?”
“I don’t know, a couple
thousand maybe.”
“Don’t have much
in that price range.”
He looks around,
then points to a 70’s era Cadillac.
How about that
one?”
“Too big and too old’” I say.
“So you want something newer.”
He shuffles over to a tiny
Fiat.
“This is like owning an oil
well. I hope you both have big bladders ‘cause you’ll almost never have to stop
for gas,” he says, guffawing at his own joke.
“Too small,” I say.
He takes us over to a late
model SUV.
“How about this one?”
I notice the sign says
$10,000. He sees me grimace.
“Today’s your lucky day. I
can cut you a special deal on this. Some guy put a deposit on it, never picked
it up. How about, say, $5,000?”
“Our budget is two thousand,”
I say.
He flinches, then scans the
lot.
“Mmmm. It’s going to be tough
to get you something for two thousand.”
Carl walks to the garage,
motions us to follow, and then opens the door.
“This just came in. It’s a PT
Cruiser, late model, good condition. You can have it for... four grand.”
He looks at us with a gleam
in his eye.
The car is lime green with a
sign painted on the side, “Bug-Off Exterminating”. Black cartoon bugs are painted
all over the hood and tailgate as if they’re about to devour the occupants.
Carl notices me frown then
quickly adds: “Blue Book on this is $4,500... after we clean it up and all.
It’s a tremendous deal.”
“What’s blue book?” I whisper
to Will.
Carl overhears me, jumps
right in. “Blue Book is the fair market value of the vehicle,” he says, as if
reciting it from a recent class in car salesmanship. “It’s what dealers go by when
pricing used cars.”
“No... I don’t think so. It’s
over budget,” I say.
“This is a great car, strong
motor, good transmission; we checked it out and everything is fine,” he
insists. “How about three thousand?”
“Well, maybe if you remove
the bugs and sign,” I say.
Carl frowns. “Look, I’ll be
honest with you. It would cost fifteen-hundred to clean this up and repaint.”
He paces the floor then turns to me: “Tell you what; give me cash and it’s
yours for two grand.”
Will opens the hood, checks
the oil and a few other things, then starts the engine. He revs it up a few
times then asks me to check for blue smoke in the exhaust.
“What does blue smoke mean?”
I ask.
“It means the rings are shot.
Don’t ever buy a car with bad rings.”
I look, see no smoke, and give
him the OK sign.
“Let’s take it for a test
drive,” he says.
“Can we?” I ask Carl.
“Of course, like I said we
checked it all out. May I see your license?”
Will hands Carl the newly
printed license.
“Just need a copy,” he says, and
then disappears into the office. A moment later he is back and hands the
license to Will.
Will closes the hood, climbs
into the driver’s seat. I slip into the passenger seat. Will maneuvers the
Cruiser out of the lot and onto the street then proceeds to drive onto a
freeway. He gets the car up to seventy.
“Handles good,” he says.
“It’s got my blessing.”
“Will it get us to Florida?”
“The engine is strong, and
the tires are pretty new. Probably got well serviced if it’s from a business. I
say go for it.”
We return to the car lot;
Carl greets us.
“So... is it a deal?”
“Take a check?” I ask.
“We take everything. Let’s go
inside.”
We follow him into the office
and thirty minutes later I’m driving home in my new “Bug-Mobile”.
I turn to Will. “I hope we
did the right thing.”
“It’s exactly what you need
for a trip like this,” he says.
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