1 Great Thing. 10 Stupid Things.

1 Great Thing: Someone is coming to my house tonight -- WITH CASH -- to buy my car.

Well Halle-friggen-lujah already!

10 Stupid Things: (...I was asked while trying to sell my car)

1. Do you wear deodorant?
Why, I do believe that is none of your business and I'll thank you to stay out of my personal affairs.


2. Is it an automatic? What year is it? How much are you asking for it?
Let me group these questions into one category so that I can apply a blanket statement: Please remove head from ass and READ THE FRIGGEN AD.

3. What color is it?
Nevermind. The car is no longer for sale. You are to stupid to operate a vehicle.


4. Do you wear perfume?
If you ask me what I'm wearing, I'm hanging up.


5. Will you accept a cashier's check for twice the amount and just send me a check for the difference?
Yes, because I'm retarded and have never heard the word "Scam" before. Please send me an email so that I can report you to the authorities.


6. Will you meet me in an empty parking lot tonight so I can test drive it?
Yes. You'll know it's me because I'll be wearing a tube top stuffed with hundred dollar bills, no panties and a sandwich board that says "I'M A FUCKING IDIOT".


7. I know you're a woman and you probably have no idea, but have you changed the timing belt?
I'm sorry, I didn't catch that last question, my legs were covering my ears while I squeezed my fifteenth child onto the dirt floor of an abandoned trailer. Please let me consult any man within a 100 mile radius that must be more mechanically knowledgable than I, a mere woman incapable of paying a dealership $1700 to do this scheduled maintenance which was, BY THE WAY, mentioned in the ad as being done at 86,000 miles.


Try not to get your dick stuck in the spokes of your covered wagon, since you're clearly living in the 1800s.


8. What does it smell like?
Depends if I'm wearing deodorant at the time.



9. Can I roll up the windows, turn on the car and sit in it for half an hour?
Sure. I'll dial 9-1- and wait for your eyes to glaze over.



10. [At 7:30am on a Sunday morning] Can I come over in 10 minutes to test drive it?
If you show up at my house in 10 minutes, you'd better bring breakfast, the morning paper and a jock strap made of cast-iron because I'm going to bash you in the nuts with a 2x4.


There are many more fun little car selling anecdotes I could share, but by the end you'd be pulling your hair out, too. Believe me, I'm a little patchy now, thanks to the process. But, at least a few highlights:

Had one girl show up in a gas mask. Mmhhmm, like the ones our soldiers wear.

Yes, she was the same one who asked me about my deodorant wearing habits (for those who are curious, I do, in fact wear deodorant - unscented at that.), perfume (none, thanks) and the actual smell of the car's interior. Apparently she was exposed to some sort of chemical spill and can't be exposed to anything (car/house/person/outside) that has any scent whatsoever. Sad. She lectured me endlessly about the evils of dryer sheets, scented soap, solvents, cleansers and the like. It got annoying. Then she sat in my car and wasted about $25 worth of gas running it with the windows up trying to see if she "could smell ANYTHING!" Nope. No smell. Sold!

Then the windshield cracked while I was rinsing it off and she couldn't buy the car because they'd have to use some sort of heinous chemically enhanced glue to install a new windshield.

Well, great. Hubby thinks it's probably better that way. I tend to agree. Blessed fate did not want me to have to tangle with this maniac in the future.

One more, for the sake of closure...
Remember the dude that called me at 7:30am on that Sunday? Yeah, he also called me at 7:30am that Saturday, too. After he badgered me about the state of the car for 10 minutes and berated me for not being able to show him the car THAT DAY (I was hosting a party at my house all day) we agreed that he'd call me when he was free on Thursday to schedule a time to see the car. Why did he call the next morning to ask me the same exact questions? Funny, I was asking the same question when Hubby informed me that he also called during the party to see if he could come see the car. When Hubby told him he couldn't show him the car becuase it was my car and I was selling it, he got all up in a huff and hung up.

In case you haven't already guessed, this is Mr. Covered Wagon who basically told me I was too stupid to know whether the timing belt had been changed on my own car.

Wow.

So, anyway, that's that. Car is sold and I'm off to the bank to deposit this hard earned cash.

Moral of the story: The dollar difference between the Privately Sold value of your car and Dealer Trade-in value is roughly the same amount you'll have to invest in therapy after dealing with as much hooliganism as the American public can produce.