I drive a Honda because I can only handle buying a car every 10-15 years. Last week I turned in my 93 Accord for a new one...
I called my car "Ol' Crossbite" (affectionate name I gave it after an incident with a Camry knocked the front bumper halfway off a couple of years ago). It had its share of quirks- the anti theft system consisted of an ignition system that only worked if the wheel was turned within 5 degrees of the sweet spot, intermittent brakes, and overall appearance. I knew the Accord was almost gone, and having put a couple thousand dollars into parts over the past year, I just wanted it to get me to the lot so I could trade it in.
Imagine my rage when they offered me a paltry $700 for it. Never mind the fact that it actually started smoking on our last trip together about a mile from the lot where my new car was waiting. There's sentimental value here, people. Ol' Crossbite has seen me perform minor surgery in the back seat with a fish hook and a bottle of whiskey, throw up at least once, use it as a saw horse, cry, and even haul unconscious animals to the emergency vet clinic.
I went on a lot of first dates in that car.
But I ended up taking the $700 anyway.
In working out the details of buying a car, I reaffirmed my hatred for three things-
-Car Salesmen
-Banks
-Buying cars
Car salesmen can't count or understand spoken English. I'm going to tie an arbitrary number to this for the sake of illustration and see if you can empathize with my seething urge to kill several people at Cocksucker Honda of Atlanta:
Let's say I went in with $10,000. I planned on spending $10,000 on a car and that was all of the money I had allocated to this purchase. I'll also preface this by saying I have better things to do than argue with a douchebag with bad hair over a price that I think is fair to begin with. My first and last offer are the same because I find haggling over price about as fun as running a toenail biting booth at a retirement home.
Salesguy- So, how much you lookin' to spend?
Me- I can spend $10,000. That is all of the money I have for a car.
Salesguy- let me talk to my manager.
Me- Why? If you can't do $10,000, I'm not buying it- I seriously am not here to barter beads and otter pelts. Just tell me if I can have it for that price.
Salesguy- I'll be right back.
*10 minutes pass*
Salesguy- He said he can do $11,000, but that includes tag, taxes, and...
Me- Alrighty. Sorry for wasting our time. *walking out door, never to return again*
Salesguy- SIR! Wait...maybe I can get him to...
Me- Okay, listen carefully- I know you are doing a job and you have to get money from me, but I'm not retarded. I want to buy a car, and $10,000 is all of the money I have. I am laying it all out there to save both of us some time and theatrics. So add it all up and come up with $10k or less. If you can't, I'll buy something else. Nothing personal.
Salesguy- I don't know, I'll see what he says.
Me- Alrighty.
*five minutes pass*
Salesguy- He said $10,750 is the lowest he can do.
Me- See, the thing is, that number is bigger than the number I told you initially (which hasn't changed). So no deal and I'm starting to hate you.
Salesguy- Let me talk to my...
He actually followed me out to my car and watched me drive away. He even called my cell phone, but I wouldn't answer until the next day. Apparently they sold a child to the gypsies or something and were able to meet my price. I gladly went in and signed the papers. I told them I'd get them a cashier's check the next day.
Next massive pain in the ass - The Bank
The guy at Perforated Colon Savings and Trust told me that even though the check had been deposited and the money was in my account, I couldn't have it. They have to "wait for the funds to be released". If you ever hear this, your bullshit siren should start wailing like a camel caught in a sewer grate, because you are being lied to. I would officially be able to spend the money on the 17th. They told me this on the 8th, so I was pissed.
I spoke to a couple of drones who are chained to tables answering the phones somewhere, and was repeatedly told that Jesus himself did not have the ability to release the funds. I was going to have to wait nine days to claim a car I had already bought.
Let's figure out what the bank is doing here- the money originally came from a credit union- not some dude writing a personal check. So the garbage they feed you about waiting for the check to clear is obviously crap. Now the money was in my account at the First Bank of Lucifer, but I couldn't have it until they said so. Do you know what that is, boys and girls? That's right- the bank gets a large interest-free loan for ten days. When you consider that they do this thousands of times a week to people all over the country, it starts to smell like crime.
I was pissed, but I eventually decided that I'd just shut up and wait. I didn't have the energy to fight the man anymore.
I called the dealership and told them that I wouldn't be able to pick up the car until the 17th.
They said it was fine.
With one huge condition: Salesguy said I had to pay $30 per day for them to keep the car there until I picked it up. I called him a "fiery vaginapede" and then just started slamming my phone down on the table over and over. Eventually he called back.
Salesguy- What's the problem?
Me- That is absolutely not going to happen under any circumstances. If I think of a way to make this clearer, I'll call back later, but for now just understand that I am not going to be charged for you guys to keep that car there until I pick it up.
Salesguy- I'm sorry. It's not...it actually is in the contract and everything, and my manager...
Me- I think I need to talk to your manager if he thinks he is serious about this.
*hold music*
Manager- Hey, Dusty, how are you doing today?
Me- I'm about average right now, but you and you alone have the power to make me happy.
Manager- Anything you want (acting like he hasn't been a part of this deal until just now), champ. What can I do for you?
Me- Don't charge me for leaving my car on your lot until the 17th.
Manager- Oooooh...wellll...see, we can't really do that. We are required to receive a daily fee for blah blah and insurance thisandthat, so blah.
Me- No. Stop. Don't. Seriously, I will back out of that contract, hire a lawyer and waste so much time and money on this that we will all lose our jobs. I am very committed to this. Really. Find a spot in the back corner of the lot somewhere and just leave it until I come get it. Think of the children.
Manager- See, the thing is, we have to-
Me- AAAHHHHH! AH! AH! DON'T SAY WHAT YOU ARE ABOUT TO SAY BECAUSE I WILL MOVE TO MEXICO TO AVOID THIS AND I HATE MEXICO.
Manager- Well, alright. I guess we can keep it here for a few days, but if there is any way to get us that check sooner, that would be great.
Huh?
Since the manager showed some humanity, I decided to return the favor by making an effort to get him his money and uphold my end of the deal. After all, I did tell him I'd have it on Thursday. Plus I didn't think Ol' Crossbite had another week left. I redirected my hatred toward the bank. The more I thought about it, the pisseder I got at the stupid bank. Not pissed like I want to yell at people, pissed like I was going to show up at the CEO's house with a baby alligator and a ball gag.
Fortunately, I didn't have to go to those lengths. I ran into an old friend at the ball gag store who used to date a girl who was a branch manager at my bank. I asked him if she still worked there, and he said she did. He even gave me her phone number.
Crappy Bank of Baby Rape, this is Jenny, how can I help you?
Hi Jen, It's Dusty. How's it going?
Super, how bout you? I read your blog all the time and you are the funniest, best looking guy on the planet. Everyone loves you and wants to be like you.
Yeah, well...
What can I do for you?
Well, it seems that the horrible institution for which you work has sequestered some of my money and they won't give it to me. They act like they are sitting on a bomb chair that is triggered by customer satisfaction.
Let's see if I can fix that. What's your account number?
2.
Okay. (clackity clack) Wow, you're rich as hell. I bet your girlfriend constantly brags about how lucky she is because you are so rich and handsome.
Yeah, most of the time.
Okay. The money will be available at midnight tonight. You want me to go ahead and have a cashier's check waiting for you tomorrow?
Jenny's getting flowers for helping to keep me out of jail.
A little divine intervention goes a long way; the next day at noon I was screaming around Atlanta in a shiny new automobile. It's swell to have a new ride, but the experience of buying it was more torturous than it was for you to read about it, so I'm good with doing that as infrequently as possible.
 Dusty
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24 Comments:
Thanks for giving the little guy a voice.
Vegas Tsunami Fan Club
too bad you don't have boobies. they've been known to reduce 17 day money hostage sentences to like 3 days if you show 'em your ta ta's.
Thank God I have never had to purchase a car from liquid shit sucking dealers, only from friends and family.
dunderfunk.
Thanks for the laughs.
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