(no subject)
Nick Conigliaro
English 1121.70
10 February 07
A Car Buying Fiasco
Last summer, I decided to buy a car. Mostly due to the fact that I was 18 and still had not owned one. My budget was well under $1,000. At least I could say I bought my car, unlike many teens in the area driving their “mommy money” cars. With my ambition set, I just had to find a car that suite me. Easier said than done.
I had always wanted a classic car. I still did. Something that wasn’t bland or boring. Something that would not go out of style. Something that would I wouldn’t have to pay anymore for because I’d be able to fix it myself. I had come across old AMC’s, Buicks, Chryslers; all cars that were just too impractical to most people. But I’ve always had a soft spot for them.
The first place I had ever looked for a car was in the classifieds section of the newspaper. There were no pictures to speak of, and I quickly realized all of the featured cars were dealer postings and new cars well above my budget. Starting to lose hope, a friend mentioned Carsoup.com. Now, this was a swell site; full color photos, honest description, and decent prices. I worked with this site for a number of months, occasionally finding a nice car at a bargain. The real problem was getting to the car in time. Too many times I had called only to find out the car had already been sold, with the poster being too lazy to take down the ad. It was time to move on.
While searching on Carsoup, a family member mentioned Craigslist.com. Fed up with the likes of Carsoup, I readily looked into it. Cars were not it’s specialty, but it already had a much greater selection than anything I had previously come across. It was simple, but that’s what made it work. No dealers trying to sell price hiked junkers. Just real, honest people selling decent cars at a wonderful price. Contrary to previous sites, the problem here was there were just too many cars too choose from. I just couldn’t decide.
Then it happened. I found an old ’72 Lincoln Mark IV. Beautiful car. It was just overly big. Measuring in at 20ft long, it was sadly, too big. Especially for a 2 door. Gas prices were an issue too, seeing as this car only got around 6mpg. As much as I wanted it, it just wasn’t practical. Even to me.
It was October when I finally came across the ad for the car I would inevitably purchase. “1977 Ranchero. Ford’s El Camino. Black with Red leather interior. Has some rust!” This was the kind of car I had wanted as a kid. There was no picture on the ad, but it sounded reasonable enough. At $600, it was a bargain too. I immediately called the poster. An elderly man answered, from south Minneapolis. After a quick chat about the car, we set up a pick-up date; Monday at 8pm.
Getting there proved difficult. My parents were very reluctant toward going to south Minneapolis at night. After enough nagging, I managed to convince my mom to come with if I brought a friend. Monday came, and off we were. It was a brisk night. All we had to find the place was a map printed off of the internet. Up and down streets we went, looking for the address. Every house looked the same, and it was too dark to see an address. We even thought we wouldn’t find it. Then I saw it, parked on a curb. A big black beast of a car, gleaming in the moonlight. I got out of our minivan and went to the door. The elderly couple answered and the old man brought out a flashlight so we could look at the car. It was an amazing sight; fancy leather interior, slick GT stripes and dual exhaust. I opened the door. “Creeeek.” It didn’t smell musty, instead smelling like a classic should. I got inside. It had some of the most comfortable seats I had ever sat on. We took it for a test drive. It was not in perfect shape, but I liked it nonetheless. After the inspection, he invited us in.
The old man lit a cigar and explained where he got the car. “It was originally owned by a sheriff who lived in South Dakota. He gave it to his son for college, who then sold it to me. That was 13 years ago..” we sat down in the living room while he searched for the title. The dogs were barking, and he would hit them with a stick to shut them up. We watched TV as he argued with his wife over the location of the title. “It was in my damn green box with all the other titles.” He said. “Why’d ya go and “organize” my papers!” It must have been an hour before he gave up looking. It was no use. All we could do was go home.
I had class the next morning. I couldn’t resist telling all of my friends about the car I was buying. Who would have known long it would take them to find the title. Class ended, and I found a ride home. Upon pulling into my driveway, my car was sitting there! What a surprise! I got the keys, and immediately took it around the block. I finally had a car.
English 1121.70
10 February 07
A Car Buying Fiasco
Last summer, I decided to buy a car. Mostly due to the fact that I was 18 and still had not owned one. My budget was well under $1,000. At least I could say I bought my car, unlike many teens in the area driving their “mommy money” cars. With my ambition set, I just had to find a car that suite me. Easier said than done.
I had always wanted a classic car. I still did. Something that wasn’t bland or boring. Something that would not go out of style. Something that would I wouldn’t have to pay anymore for because I’d be able to fix it myself. I had come across old AMC’s, Buicks, Chryslers; all cars that were just too impractical to most people. But I’ve always had a soft spot for them.
The first place I had ever looked for a car was in the classifieds section of the newspaper. There were no pictures to speak of, and I quickly realized all of the featured cars were dealer postings and new cars well above my budget. Starting to lose hope, a friend mentioned Carsoup.com. Now, this was a swell site; full color photos, honest description, and decent prices. I worked with this site for a number of months, occasionally finding a nice car at a bargain. The real problem was getting to the car in time. Too many times I had called only to find out the car had already been sold, with the poster being too lazy to take down the ad. It was time to move on.
While searching on Carsoup, a family member mentioned Craigslist.com. Fed up with the likes of Carsoup, I readily looked into it. Cars were not it’s specialty, but it already had a much greater selection than anything I had previously come across. It was simple, but that’s what made it work. No dealers trying to sell price hiked junkers. Just real, honest people selling decent cars at a wonderful price. Contrary to previous sites, the problem here was there were just too many cars too choose from. I just couldn’t decide.
Then it happened. I found an old ’72 Lincoln Mark IV. Beautiful car. It was just overly big. Measuring in at 20ft long, it was sadly, too big. Especially for a 2 door. Gas prices were an issue too, seeing as this car only got around 6mpg. As much as I wanted it, it just wasn’t practical. Even to me.
It was October when I finally came across the ad for the car I would inevitably purchase. “1977 Ranchero. Ford’s El Camino. Black with Red leather interior. Has some rust!” This was the kind of car I had wanted as a kid. There was no picture on the ad, but it sounded reasonable enough. At $600, it was a bargain too. I immediately called the poster. An elderly man answered, from south Minneapolis. After a quick chat about the car, we set up a pick-up date; Monday at 8pm.
Getting there proved difficult. My parents were very reluctant toward going to south Minneapolis at night. After enough nagging, I managed to convince my mom to come with if I brought a friend. Monday came, and off we were. It was a brisk night. All we had to find the place was a map printed off of the internet. Up and down streets we went, looking for the address. Every house looked the same, and it was too dark to see an address. We even thought we wouldn’t find it. Then I saw it, parked on a curb. A big black beast of a car, gleaming in the moonlight. I got out of our minivan and went to the door. The elderly couple answered and the old man brought out a flashlight so we could look at the car. It was an amazing sight; fancy leather interior, slick GT stripes and dual exhaust. I opened the door. “Creeeek.” It didn’t smell musty, instead smelling like a classic should. I got inside. It had some of the most comfortable seats I had ever sat on. We took it for a test drive. It was not in perfect shape, but I liked it nonetheless. After the inspection, he invited us in.
The old man lit a cigar and explained where he got the car. “It was originally owned by a sheriff who lived in South Dakota. He gave it to his son for college, who then sold it to me. That was 13 years ago..” we sat down in the living room while he searched for the title. The dogs were barking, and he would hit them with a stick to shut them up. We watched TV as he argued with his wife over the location of the title. “It was in my damn green box with all the other titles.” He said. “Why’d ya go and “organize” my papers!” It must have been an hour before he gave up looking. It was no use. All we could do was go home.
I had class the next morning. I couldn’t resist telling all of my friends about the car I was buying. Who would have known long it would take them to find the title. Class ended, and I found a ride home. Upon pulling into my driveway, my car was sitting there! What a surprise! I got the keys, and immediately took it around the block. I finally had a car.