Crazy car buying stories!

I can safely say I've never had that happen.

sporqster wrote: Makes me wonder if I messed up on that deal with the Nigerian prince who needed a place to temporarily deposit his fortune.

Yeah dude, you berkeleyed up big on that one: Nigerian Money

Car buying story:

Dated a girl who wanted a late 70's Chevy truck (like my '77 Scottsdale). She found one that was maroon, and had some sort of ghetto-plush interior but looked pretty straight. Called the guy, and things seemed ok so we make the drive.

We got there and did the usual poking around and I saw that there was an O2 sensor with the wires cut off in the exhaust manifold (driver's side). I asked why a carbureted engine would have an O2 sensor, and why were the wires cut but he said he had no idea.

It starts fine and idles but he wont let us drive it. He, instead, takes us for a drive and instantly turns up the stereo "Listen to how loud the music goes!" he says while some band that sounds a lot like INXS or Talking Heads blares away.

Around the block we go and we're back in his driveway. Only then does he turn the music down. We're laughing uncontrollably at this point.

"So what do you think?" He asks

"not in a million years man, be less obvious next time"

Selling story - after all of these years magic finally happened. I listed a car at a reasonable but still better-than-I-planned-for price. Guy comes to look at it, sees the garage and the four page word doc of maintenance done, and says "I'll take it, I'm not even going to offer less." Never sold a car at full asking price before.

Tranny story one:

It was summer I was bored, and a friend of mine was going out to help a friend of ours pick up a ford C4 "A few miles away out of a old Ford Torino", so I went along. By a few he meant more like 40 and by "out of" it turned out we had to remove it still. This wasn't so bad, except we were in middle of nowhere mid MI (there was no cell reception) crazy redneck country, some serious deliverance type E36 M3, unarmed, with a guy who, looking back, reminds me a lot of Trevor Phillips, in his pole barn. Somehow this went fairly smoothly and we all got out of there alive with a good C4.

Tranny story two:

My Yugo had a spun diff pin, and thus needed a good used box. Car-part.com claims there is one in Ypsilanti, so I call, they claim they do indeed have it, and I drive out there. The second I walked in the door I began having my doubts. This place was falling down, nothing looked remotely organized even up front, there were cats everywhere inside. So I talk to the guys in there and they say we'll need to go back and "find it", in a falling down pole barn without electricity and full of evidence of the worst raccoon infestation ever. Turns out they didn't have the gearbox after all, but at least I didn't get rabies.

As a mechanic since the 60s I have quite a few stories. Number 1 son called to tell me a friend has a Pinto that won't start for sale. I load my tools, a cam belt and number 2 son into the car. I offer the guy 50 dollars, he accepts and I install the cam belt and drove it home.

I went to look at a Futura Fairmont at night. Good body and interior, engine has a dead miss and transmission is not shifting properly. I buy it, take it to the shop, open hood and discover vacuum hose is off. Sold car the next day.

Selling the Fairmont Futura the next day is the best possible thing you could have done.

Found add for MGB in paper, called about it, owner said new clutch just installed but now transmission is out. Took tow strap and money. Started car, put it in gear, nothing. Looked under car and saw that front drive shaft bolts had fallen out. Told owner to call shop that put the clutch in it.

Riding Honda 450 Scrambler (mid 70s) and see 68 Camaro sitting with tall grass around it. Owner was mowing lawn, stopped and asked if it was for sale. Not sure, gave phone # and left. A couple of months later I get call. Tells me it won't start and will sell for 400 and if I can't get it started I can bring it back. I offer 300 and I won't bring it back. Tow it to shop, new battery, rebuild starter, it starts. Drain oil, 5 quarts of kerosene, let it idle for a couple of hours, change oil. SS RS w/350, 4 spd, positraction

I got my rallyx car from a friend-of-a-friend in New Orleans who rear-ended a Jeep with it. He knew I was a car guy so he asked me if it was crazy that the junkyard was only offering him $1.50 for it. After thinking it was a joke and doing some very awkward and uncomfortable laughing, I explained to him that when a guy says he'll give "a buck fifty" for a wrecked car he means $150. Fortunately, that misunderstanding put a little bit of a stop in his process and put him in contact with me so I offered to give him the same $150 if he could just wait a couple days for me to get down there with a trailer.

A year or so later, I was searching for a new tow rig and found a Ford E-150 conversion van on Craigslist in Louisville advertised for something like $1700 or $1800 with only something like 64k miles on it. We went for a test drive and he wouldn't let me roll the windows up. Turns out that the adhesive that they used to stick the pop-top on the roof had deteriorated somehow and with the windows closed, air would get under the top, lift it a bit, escape, and then the top would bang back down on the van. Other than having the 4.6 and being a little underpowered, it was mechanically perfect. I offered him $1200 or $1300 and he took it without hesitating. For the drive home, I put a little bit of painters tape over the seam all the way around and everything was just fine. I used a little roofing adhesive and some sheet metal screws to give it a permanent fix and proceeded to put another 70k miles on it before I sold it for $2500 several years later. I actually saw it parked outside the grocery store on Christmas Eve a couple weeks ago and it looks like it's still all sealed up.

At work in '99 or so the boss decided to get rid of the oldest truck in the fleet ('93 S-10 2.8 5 speed) via a sealed bid auction. Everyone else had recently gotten newer rides and we were joking about bidding some silly low amount. I was all set to bid $50 when my buddy hinted he was going to do the same so without telling him I bid $75.

I had the winning (and only) bid and took possession the next day. I drove the truck for 2.5 years, flogging that motor constantly. Sold it for $2,700.

And with that tale I became a dork.

I was cruising through the local insurance salvage yard, checking Neons. They had three, all 2 door twincams, two that needed a bumper/fender kind of repair, and one with a little cut on the front bumper, but the interior had been teenagered with big speaker holes, painted panels and all. I offered $600 for the three, they accepted, I fixed and sold the two good ones and had the red car in my avatar, plus $1700. I still haven't fixed the damage on the bumper.

I spent over $10k on it before I hit the track, but that's another story.

My only best-buy story (I usually pay too much) was the time I was looking for a used Datsun 1200. Found one with an asking price of $1500. The owner said that it burned oil - and she wasn't kidding. The Exxon Valdez would be jealous, and the thickness of the smoke, it was like cumulus clouds; you couldn't see through even an inch of the stuff.

Anyhow, after driving it I said no thanks, figuring that was the end of it. A couple weeks later she called back saying she was moving the next day and had to sell the car, asking how much I'd give her for it, and I volunteered $150 - she instantly accepted (dang it).

That night (to better hide the smoke) my brother gave me a ride over to pick it up, and it was pretty funny. He'd be behind me and I'd step on the gas, and his headlights would instantly vanish, along with everything else. When I came to a stoplight, an enormous fog bank slowly caught up to me, enveloping the world in a wonderous gray void.

I got the car home, pulled the engine, dropped in the one from my second Datsun 1200, then sold the ex-smoker car for $750, which paid for all the rebuild parts. At the end of the day I ended up with a new engine for free. (Don't worry, I've more than made up for that deal, sinking way too much into subsequent projects.)

I've given countless lessons on Jeep Cherokees (XJ), spent nearly 7 months searching and wound up driving 600 miles to get the one one wanted. No one had a clue what their Jeep was equipped with, and many got down right confrontational when I tried to educate them. The one we finally bought was a long way off, and my questions via text must have been annoying, and the seller couldn't seem to grasp why I'd drive so far for his Jeep. The guy finally said "call me," and I obliged. Over the course of a couple phone calls I guess I convinced him I was serious, and willing to make the trip. I told him if the Jeep is in the condition stated I'd pay asking price. I offer earnest money/deposit to hold the Jeep, initial contact was made on a Friday night, I couldn't be there to see the Jeep until Monday. The seller declined any deposit, said he'd hold it for me. I was sure I'd be taking off work and making an all day road trip for nothing. We spoke on the phone on my way up there, he said he'd turned down two other guys that had contacted him since I spoke with him. We finally arrive, the Jeep was a little rustier than I expected, but not in any places that mattered, and the tires were questionable for the drive home, but otherwise it was great, the price was right, I bought it for asking price, and drove it home.

Ninja edit for kb58:
Limited, leather, with ABS. Most Limiteds got "everything" including a tow package, since it's got "everything" owner assumes they have ABS, but if they got a tow package they don't have ABS. I'm the 1 guy that wanted ABS. Street driven bad weather SWMBOmobile, not a "rock crawler."

In reply to bigdaddylee82:

I'm curious what it was about that Jeep that made it worth the drive. I read all the way to the end of your post expecting to learn that it had the very rare X option...

One more.

We bought a 242 DL last fall, it had been listed on CL for about a month, started out at $2K OBO, and was relisted every few days for a couple hundred less OBO. I made contact via email when the seller was around $1200 OBO. Seller was quick to respond, and great about providing pictures, and describing what he knew was wrong and what he'd been told was wrong. I told the guy based on the pictures there's no way I could give more that $1K for it, and not to consider that an offer until I'd seen it in person, I may decide to offer less. That ended our email correspondence.

The ad was deleted, and I gave up. Then about 3 days later the same ad shows back up, now $1K OBO, so I made contact again, this time via text. I guess he thought it was odd I didn't want more pics, since he didn't know he'd already emailed them to me. He sent a few pictures to my phone anyway. We arranged a time to meet, car was on an indy mechanics lot, I took dad's truck and trailer, and SWMBO along for the ride.

SWMBO got it in her head that $750 was as much as she was willing to spend. I said, "we'll see." We arrived and the car was pretty much as described, I found some serious rust in the floor pan the seller didn't know about, we couldn't get the car to start, dead battery, and jumper cables from the car the seller drove there weren't doing the trick, so that helped knock the price down.

I chatted with the seller for a bit, and finally asked, "what's the lowest you'll go?" He hummed, and hawed, then said, "$800?" I responded with a big grin, "close." I pointed at SWMBO and said, "she won't let me spend more than $750." He didn't like that started pointing out all the good, and potential of the car, I chuckled and said, "I know, but I'm not the one you've got to convince," and pointed to SWMBO again. He tried a similar tactic on her, but she didn't flinch, and basically stared him down. Finally he says, "okay, $750."

Then the poor guy winds up manning the hand winch on the trailer while I steer the car. I offered several times to do the winching, and give the guy a break, but he insisted on doing the cranking. After we got the car on the trailer, and we were signing the title, I said my name again, based on the double-take he did, and the look on his face, I think it dawned on him that I was the same guy he'd been emailing, and cut off communications with earlier in the week.

G_Body_Man wrote:

slefain wrote: Went to buy a S10 parts truck to fix my wrecked Blazer. Truck was advertised as $400, which wasn't a bad price since the sheetmetal was all good. Dad and I meet the owner in his driveway and we begin looking over the truck. Before anyone could say a price the guy's wife steps onto the porch and yells "GET THAT DAMN PIECE OF E36 M3 OUT OF MY DRIVEWAY NOW!!!". Dad smiles and offers $200. The guy accepts and slinks back into the house to get the title.

This E36 M3 is legendary. Thanks for sharing!

I can beat that.

One Friday morning, Feb '07, The Boy called, asking if I wanted a free truck. Before my brain could intervene, my mouth blurted out, "Hell, yeah!" Then brain caught up and asked, "Wait, what kind and what's wrong with it?" Turned out to be a coworker's '93 GMC Sonoma, that died in the middle of the parking lot. Owner was tired of it nickle and diming him to death, so just wanted it gone. I went to look at it after work. The Boy met me in the parking lot with the keys; owner had gone home already. The Boy had to run delivery truck back to warehouse, so I checked out the little truck. Opened it up, turned the key and it started! Drove it down the street and back, and waited for The Boy to return.

Told him to call the owner, I wanted to pick up the title NOW! "Oh, but I've got a bunch of stuff in the bed." "It's ok, Larry, I've got a van. We'll bring it to you."

During the 45 minute drive to Larry's, The Boy was asking how we were going to get it home. I told him not to worry about it.

After getting the title, backing out of Larry's driveway, I let The Boy know the truck started.

Eventually, after a year of faithful service, the truck died. It turned out to be a $26 ignition control module. Took 20 minutes to fix.

Bought my first car at sixteen in the mid 1960s. It was a '61 Sunbeam Alpine. The car was on the used lot of a new car dealership in Providence, RI. The dealership owner also owned a nearby Massachusetts horse racing venue and was rightly suspected of having close ties to organized crime (to remain anonymous, even nearly 50 years later). In those days New England organized crime was HQ'd in Providence. Anyway I was sixteen, had no experience with a major purchase or negotiation tactics, so my father came along to help. The salesman ("Nick" P.) was a slick wiseguy type, quite muscular and an overall tough looking dude. My father was around 120 lbs., wirey in build, and was a pretty good old school negotiator. They were asking $500 for the car. After heated negotiations during which I was becoming very uncomfortable with my father's tactics, we bought the car for $400. I was very happy to get out of there. Around 3-4 years later there was a gangland style double murder in a Providence convenience store where there was suspected book-making activity taking place (i.e., illegal off-track betting). Guess who the hit man was? Right ... Nick, the guy I bought the Alpine from and who my father had repeatedly insulted during negotiations.

Taking advantage of someone's ignorance is surely something to be proud of.

Gary wrote: Bought my first car at sixteen in the mid 1960s. It was a '61 Sunbeam Alpine. The car was on the used lot of a new car dealership in Providence, RI. The dealership owner also owned a nearby Massachusetts horse racing venue and was rightly suspected of having close ties to organized crime (to remain anonymous, even nearly 50 years later). In those days New England organized crime was HQ'd in Providence. Anyway I was sixteen, had no experience with a major purchase or negotiation tactics, so my father came along to help. The salesman ("Nick" P.) was a slick wiseguy type, quite muscular and an overall tough looking dude. My father was around 120 lbs., wirey in build, and was a pretty good old school negotiator. They were asking $500 for the car. After heated negotiations during which I was becoming very uncomfortable with my father's tactics, we bought the car for $400. I was very happy to get out of there. Around 3-4 years later there was a gangland style double murder in a Providence convenience store where there was suspected book-making activity taking place (i.e., illegal off-track betting). Guess who the hit man was? Right ... Nick, the guy I bought the Alpine from and who my father had repeatedly insulted during negotiations.

The HQ was Federal Hill, to be exact.

In reply to Gary:

He had to make back that $100 somehow.

Here's one of my dumber stories, copied and pasted from elsewhere:

So my buddy picked up a Z31 300ZX for free from a farmer’s field. After he was done driving it home, we started to pull it apart to give it a solid cleaning which is when we realized the entire car is massive rust holes. The floorpans were basically held together only with carpet and the firewall, with massive 3-4 inch holes running alongside the frame rails on each side.

Deciding that the shell must now be trashed, we set out on a search to get a replacement shell. We ended up finding one in BC (a 7 hour drive away) and my buddy contacted the owner, who reassured him that the car features no fiberglass, doesn’t leak and has never been crashed.

Off we go one hot July morning in a borrowed Ram (after a small incident having to rewire and reinflate the tires of the rented U-Haul ghetto trailer). A few hours into the drive, we take out a flock of birds on the highway, with one particularly intrepid bird punching a hole into the AC condenser with its skull.

On the ferry between the mainland and the island with the 300ZX, I notice that the various assorted hippies are staring at us and our truck in mild horror. Figuring it’s just them being unfamiliar with a trailer-equipped Alberta-plated Ram, I step out of the truck to get some fresh air and realize that the truck is not only caked in blood and feathers but that there are still parts of birds crammed between the grille and shattered AC condenser, dripping blood onto the ferry floor. I increase my distance from the truck and rapidly disappear into the ferry’s bathroom.

When we get there (after a high-speed mountain-road episode with a deer) we realize that the car is stuck in the middle of a swamp, the dude is nowhere to be found, and the car is fiberglassed, rotten, filled with water, crooked, and carries stickers from a collision repair shop in the city we lived in and just drove seven hours away from. We go home empty-handed and get pulled over by the cops two blocks from home because the U-Haul trailer's lights finally conked out and its paper license plate had blown away in the wind.

"The HQ was Federal Hill, to be exact."

I believe that the Police Headquarters were also on Federal Hill . . . or at least close enough for an easy walk to grab the monthly pay offs.

Got my R Package Miata from a buy-here-pay-here lot that had no idea what it was using the following steps:

1)Beat then up on the test drive: "this thing rides so rough! it doesn't even have power steering!"

2) Point out the flaws "There's a huge oil leak!" (from the CAS)

3) Flash cash. Talked him down $1,000, then he refused to budge any more. I told him what I was willing to pay and walked. He called me the next day and accepted.

Co-worker snagged a dirt cheap 2500 Ram. Old boy couldn't get it to start and had thrown a considerable amount of money trying. Co-worker low balls him, signs the title, then pours 3 gallons of diesel into the tank. It fires right up. Fuel gauges go bad on them pretty often, and it was showing it had 1/4 tank left.

1967, Yes some of us were adults then.

A guy on my base owed me $450. He got orders to deploy to Vietnam. Since he wasn't a non-com he couldn't bring his ride on base so it was parked off-base with a bunch of others owned by those who weren't non-coms either. Local cops were pretty agreeable with this as long as the car moved on occasion. About once every other week they'd paint all the parked cars' tires with chalk. If they returned and the tires were still painted, they'd tow.

So since he had deployment orders and couldn't leave the base to sell or store his ride, he traded me the Pink Slip and registration papers for the $450 he owed. So I picked up my, new to me, '57 Chevy 2-dr Hardtop with body and paint is almost perfect shape. If I recall correctly, I traded it for a guitar amp. soon afterwards. '57 Chevys were pretty common in So. Cal. back then.

TeamEvil wrote: "The HQ was Federal Hill, to be exact." I believe that the Police Headquarters were also on Federal Hill . . . or at least close enough for an easy walk to grab the monthly pay offs.

Right. The police HQ was on LaSalle Square near the beginning of Atwells Ave. (at the foot of Federal Hill), which was less than a half mile from Raymond L.S. Patriarca's headquarters. "Raymond" (don't ever call me "Ray" unastan?) was the main man and ran the New England crime operation from his Coin-O-Matic vending machine business on Atwells Ave. Today Atwells Ave. and Federal Hill is a chic, upscale area with a lot of excellent restaurants (but a few shady nightclubs). The funny thing is though, it was safer then as long as you weren't involved with organized crime. You could walk the streets safely anytime of day or night. Raymond kept the neighborhood safe. Today despite the chic, upscale restaurants, you don't want to be there after 10:00 pm. Raymond could do what the Providence Police can't seem to do to protect the neighborhood.

Is that box/semi rig truck that's actually a terrific hamburger place still parked around there?

Haven Brothers or something like that?

I remember coming home from NYC in my Ghia and having a bit of engine trouble. Got off of the highway and stumbled onto that weird place in the middle of the night. The Ghia cooled down while I had a burger and I made it back to Boston without a hitch.