Here you go - I just got done typing it all up. Enjoy!
Here's part one:
"This whole fiasco started when I found a very nice truck out in Idaho. It was a ’96 2500 club-cab, 4x4, NV-4500, etc. I really liked this one because it had the EXACT same color scheme as my ’94, was reasonably priced and had pretty low miles.
I called the dealership that had the truck and they told me all about it. After I hung up with them, I applied for a loan online. I was approved for the loan in less than 5 minutes so I immediately called back and the salesman told me that the truck was sold. I was not only upset I was worried that I had just been approved for a loan and had a blank check coming in the mail overnight. I frantically started looking for trucks – since I didn’t know how long the check was good for. I couldn’t find anything. I called the company who I financed through and they assured me that the check was good for 45 days and if I didn’t use it…no big deal.
The next day after looking darn near all day at trucks online…I finally found the truck. It didn’t have a price, color or much of any other info other than the VIN and other basic info. I immediately recognized it as being the elusive 1998 Quad-Cab 12-valve with an NV-4500. My jaw dropped and I was on the phone post haste. The salesman confirmed my suspicions that it was in fact a 12-valve/Quad-Cab/NV-4500 truck. About my only question was the color. He replied that it was a ‘lighter blue’…. I was growing more excited by the second.
After I hung up the phone with the salesman, I quickly ran a Carfax report on the VIN and it came up clean. I mulled it over for about 10 seconds and called the salesman back and put a deposit on it with a credit card. I wasn’t about to let this truck get away from me. My mind was somewhat at ease – I had a more perfect truck than I ever thought possible…but I had to wait until the weekend to go look at it. Or did I?
Friday morning comes and the check arrives late. I told my manager that I’d be in late so that I could sign for the overnight envelope. I looked up directions to the dealership and thought I could make it there in time to look at the truck before the sun went down. I called my manager from the road and left a voicemail stating that I’d be taking the day off. I drove as if I was going to see a long lost friend I hadn’t seen in years…basically, I was flying low. At one point going down the interstate I passed a state trooper who was positioned on the other side of the highway. He pulled out of his post when I went by…so I let off and let traffic pass me for a few miles. That turned out to be a waste of time since he didn’t end up cutting across the median to come after me.
I arrived at the small town where the dealership was only to have driven right past the place. I ended up at a restaurant/bar loaded with locals. Just imagine a bunch of locals hanging out when a guy driving a VW Beetle comes in with a pencil and paper asking for directions. The barkeep was friendly and explained that the place was just up the street. She was about the only person in the bar that wasn’t looking at me as if I had a lobster on my head.
I rushed out of the restaurant and headed up the street about a ¼ mile to the dealership. When I pulled up all I saw was ‘Intense Blue’ and I tried to contain my excitement – you know how it is…it’s never good to let the salesman know how much you like a truck. He knew who I was from our phone conversations and handed me the keys. I looked it over for about 45 minutes and couldn’t really find any flaws that would prevent me from buying it. During this time I noticed another salesman giving my VW a ‘once-over’ as if he assumed I was trading it in. He gave me a few lines of BS about how his mother wants a yellow Beetle…blah, blah, blah. About all I did was smile and nod while he spewed out an incredible amount of verbal manure.
Now it was test drive time. I turned the key and it fired right off…just like it should. Under the hood, there were no vibrations or audible abnormalities, etc. – so I shut the hood and got behind the wheel. It drove great. I got it up to temperature and went through the gears with my right foot planted on the floor. It still performed very well with no visible smoke, etc. By the time the test drive was over, I knew it was time to go back and negotiate.
The asking price was very slightly above NADA. I only managed to talk them down a little bit. They knew they had me right where they wanted me. I had just driven 300 miles to look at the truck of my dreams and didn’t want to go home empty handed. We came to an agreement on the price and signed the papers.
Knowing that the loan I had applied for was for ‘x dollars’ and the final price of the truck was ‘x + y’ dollars…I had to put a small amount on my credit card. No big deal…only this dealership didn’t have a credit card machine. The salesman had to drive me down the street to a motel that was owned by the dealership’s proprietor. When we arrived at the motel…I instantly felt like I was part of a production crew shooting an episode of “COPS”. This place was a landfill. The salesman had to knock on 3 doors until he finally found the manager of this fine establishment. I patiently waited outdoors and hoped that I wasn’t about to become a victim of identity theft or endure bodily harm from armed thugs.
The salesman finally found the manager and gained access to the credit card machine. He tried to open the door to the office, but couldn’t find the right key and quickly became angry. I was then lead into the office via the manager’s apartment. Various scenes from the TV series “COPS” that were going through my head were instantly made real. I could not believe the filth and complete squalor this person was living in. To top it all off, the manager had a little poodle. Great, now I’m having thoughts right out of the motion picture “Silence of the Lambs”. Thankfully, the card swiping, approval and receipt printing process went smooth as glass. I signed it quickly – again hoping that I wasn’t the latest victim of identity theft. Once that transaction was complete…the salesman gave me my receipt, we waded through the trash and I wiped my feet on the way out while trying to subdue the full body ‘chill’ that was imminent.
Back at the dealership – now I have to find a trailer to yank the VW back home. The proprietor of the dealership had a friend of a friend who had a connection for a trailer for me to use. After a ½ hour or so, that deal feel through so now we had to find a U-Haul. The nearest U-Haul that had a trailer was about 35 miles north. The salesman assured me that it was a quick trip and the place is ‘…right off the highway. ’ I gathered up my directions, cell phone and what was left of my sanity and headed out with my newly issued temporary plate. Five minutes into the trip I realized that I left the bill of sale at the dealership. Oh well, I’m not going back now…the show must go on. I drove carefully as to avoid any interaction with the local authorities and followed the directions I was given.
I quickly realized that the directions were wrong. Very wrong. I stopped at an auto parts store and got directions from a nice gentleman after hearing him say “…Oh, you’re on the wrong end of town…”. Soon I was headed on my way yet again. I even cooperatively developed a crude hand-drawn map to help guide me to the U-Haul.
His directions were wrong. So I had to stop again for directions, this time at a gas station. I noticed that the cashier was a teen-aged guy with “MATT” clearly labeled on his name tag. I knew I had to be in good company…heck we shared the same first name. He was clueless about any U-Haul places in the area. It was clear to my why he didn’t know of any such place. He wasn’t quite at the age when he would have to go rent a carpet cleaner in a desperate attempt to clean up the remains from a party. I left that gas station and drove to the next one which was about 2 blocks away.
The two female cashiers tried their best to be helpful, but couldn’t think of where the U-Haul place was. I then got some help from the hero of the day. There was a female customer that was waiting in line behind me while I was asking directions. She knew that the U-Haul place was inside of a hardware store…AND she knew the name of the place. The female cashier then proceeded to give me her version of how to get to the hardware store. I listened to her very detailed route for about 5 minutes and then had to stop her to explain that I’m not familiar with the area and will have a hard time finding my destination based on her directions that included very obscure and inconspicuous landmarks. The female customer came through with very clear directions and said that the original directions I had from the salesman were “…WAY off!” Gee, you think so?!
I bolted out of that second gas station and fired off my ‘new truck’ in route to fetch a trailer. It was then that the low fuel light/alarm went off. Great, now I’m low on fuel and running late to a hardware store that is closing in less than a ½ hour. The directions this time were flawless…it really was “…right of the highway. ” even though this was an entirely different highway than I was originally told. The hardware store had a nicely lit sign and I could see that they were still open.
End of part one - stay tuned for part two...
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