It’s simple really! You find a truck you want on Marketplace, Craigslist, whatever it may be, and you reach out.
Their listing will obviously say “No low balls, I know what I got” and you ask to see it knowing damn well you’re gonna short them $500 of their asking price just because you can.


For the meeting, here’s what you SHOULD do: Arrange to see the car in a neutral, public place, and ideally during the day. While I haven’t sold many cars, I’ve sold many cameras in my day, and I like to do it at a bank for two reasons:
- Banks are very public and covered in security cameras, meaning minimal risk to your physical safety.
- You can watch them pull out the cold hard cash, meaning you know there are no fraudulent bills (unless the bank is in on scamming you for some reason, indicating you have bigger problems afoot).
Taking these steps help to make sure you’ve protected both yourself and your wallet from any kind of external threat, and hey, I think that’s pretty rad!
If you don’t know what you’re looking at, maybe arrange for a mechanic to give it an inspection to confirm the car is good and worth your cash. They usually aren’t that expensive, and sometimes they are free!
From there, the ball is in your court to decide whether or not you want that pickup. It’s that simple.
Unless, of course, you’re friends with a car enthusiast like David.
The Inciting Event
Let me set the scene: I’m sitting in my room, hitting my head against the wall, wondering where it all went wrong when I get a text from David. Not too crazy considering the whole “he’s my boss” thing and bosses tend to talk to their workers, no matter how much we both hate the whole “speaking to others” thing. But here we are, speaking nonetheless.
The text reads plain and simple: “Wanna go on a road trip today?”
Sure! It’s not like I was doing anything today anyway (re: hitting my head against the wall, et cetera).
Details were sparse, but I was down because I’m always in the mood to make some content!
I meet him at the Galpin office, we do some work on our lil’ computers, do some wrenching on my ‘Vette (which we later discovered had a bad harmonic balancer that wanted to grenade the entire front end), loaded up into the Aztek, and we hit the road.
About Me
Growing up in Arizona, I’m no stranger to disparate communities.
To put it frankly without lingering on it more than I have to: Black kid in a mostly white, mostly conservative state, and growing up off-roading in small Wild West communities where our differences are amplified and the Stars and Bars are still waved and hung up on the bar’s walls.
I bring it up to say I’m familiar with these worlds and how to navigate the people within, no matter how at odds with each other we might seem on the surface. But sometimes, I still get a little uncomfortable.
This was one of those times. Let me give you context as to why. Here is, very approximately, where we were going:



See, we were going deep into the middle of nowhere, BFN/BFE if you will, and we were taking the half-running Aztek up to make it happen.
Now, in a perfect world, I’d be in my Jeep that I have kitted with rations, first aid, satellite GPS, compressors with external power, generators, solar, recovery gear, personal protection, anything you can think of. It’s all a “have and not need” way of thinking.
But we had nothing except for a rapidly setting sun, waning cell service, a creepy community, and a Facebook profile without a profile picture that DT neglected to mention he barely researched.
For all we knew, we were gonna be eaten, either by the coyotes or the cannibals in the hills. It didn’t matter which; I knew my mom would be very mad at me regardless of the specific predator that ate me.
Tehachapi and The Wondering Winds


Yeah, this kinda sucked.
It was pretty cold and we had a hard time navigating the unmarked dirt roads lit only by star and moonlight.
When we got close, we realized we might actually need an action plan here, so here’s what we decided:
We pull over and switch drivers so I can drop DT off to look at the truck as I quickly hoof it back to our meeting spot. If I don’t hear from him in 15 minutes, I high tail it and maybe call some cops.
As we both said, there’s no reason for both of us to die, right?!
Well, the first part of the plan goes well, I drop him off, I get to the waiting spot after making only one wrong turn, and I watch some YouTube videos.
And then 20 minutes go by.
A text from DT: “all is well.”
Then ten minutes. “See you out there.”
Ten minutes more and a text from me asking: “Status report?”
An instant reply: “See you in 8 minutes.”
And ANOTHER 10 minutes later: “Sorry for delay // All is well.”
No DT, all is not well, I’m cold, in a broken car, waiting for an hour in a tiny town that for all I know wants to SKIN ME. Let’s GOOOOO.
Mission Accomplished!

Well, as y’all know by now, DT secured the truck and has since found it actually has a couple of issues, scaring his media guy half to death notwithstanding.
It really is a beauty, something that made me a little jealous as my final desire for a three-car garage is an old-school truck, and this one damn near checks all the boxes.
This trip that was supposed to take only a couple of hours, that DT said we’d likely get back at 7:45 PM from, turned into a night’s long saga that saw me change no fewer than two sets of underwear and a timely return to the city of 12:24 AM, according to my last photo’s metadata.
So yeah. That’s how you buy a truck, and that’s why you should maybe think twice before quickly saying yes to a car enthusiast’s proposition to hang out.
Thanks for reading.
Topshot inset of “Pluto” from The Hills Have Eyes (1977) via the film’s poster/Vanguard Releasing
You say creepy, I say THAT SKY! Hot dang. I get the I-hear-banjos effect of being somewhere remote and unfamiliar, but man, I love a dark sky.
TBH, if I have to go TO a purchase, I just tell a seller I’m bringing a friend, or (more often, since I have broken crapcans sprinkled across multiple homes) I am the friend who goes with someone else to check out a car. Strength in twos, man. Also, if they try anything stupid with me there Because Woman, my recommendation is always to lowball harder, no ragerts, I don’t put up with that garbage even as the bystander.
Tehachapi would’ve been en route/near-route to some of my lemony adventures, so in terms of cell service, Dusty and I found out that Verizon had more coverage in remote areas of the desert, but my AT&T phone weirdly tended to fill in where his didn’t. Being on two different carriers might be smart if you’re heading somewhere remote in a car that might break down, but that’s all the more reason to stick together.
Also, that’s a cassette player, not an 8-track. The GM players of the era shoved in tapes length-wise and it’s not tall enough to be for 8-tracks.
Don’t get drawn into DT’s world, It’s like a neverending twilight zone episode but with rotten jeeps and pickups with knackered gearboxes.
A great first article and glad to see you writing for The Autopian, Griff!
Like many commenters, I’ve not really had a situation where I’m the ‘other’ in my home country so I can’t imagine that experience.
Here in Australia, we don’t have to worry if a buyer/seller is going to whip out a Glock because things aren’t going their way. SWG has said it’s happened to him so many times in his car-buying career it’s disturbing.
I’ve had nothing but cordial transactions in my history, but something I joke about was my 2006 WRX purchase which on the face of it sounds mega-dodgy:
I bought the car in Mount Druitt (home of One Four – https://youtu.be/6ajjtzwz930?si=30uj_mxWpOrEZElU and regarded as a rather sketchy area in Sydney), on Christmas Eve with a brown paper bag full of cash!
Everything went fine, but with the droning cannon exhaust muffler and tons of cops on the road to a family house in central Sydney had me hoping they don’t notice me!
OK you guys, all of you. Writer, commenters, writer’s boss. This is really basic.
Don’t go looking at things from the classifieds at night. As a kid 40 years and hundreds of purchases ago, this was one of the first things I was advised, and confirmed with my own experience.
We can talk about reasons some other time.
Also if you’d like stories about being the wrong race in the wrong place, they’re out there from all corners if you’d like to get things started. May humans someday learn to understand each other.
Glad things went well anyway, do that beautiful drive all the way into the Central Valley sometime and watch the railroad tracks go in and out of the mountains, all hand-dug 150 years ago.
Now that I look back, I’ve only bought ONE vehicle through a private sale and it was my second car but the first car I bought with my own money from working. The 1987 Jetta GL, bought it from a nice lady across town. No scary ghost towns or side streets involved thankfully.
Thinking about it more, I’ve only sold ONE vehicle privately as well, strange.
You got me thinking as well and out of 29 automobile transactions I have been involved with only 1 was a private party transaction with a stranger. All the rest I have bought/sold with a relative or friend, dealt with a dealer, and one insurance.
I bought my first non-car-dealer car from a guy I knew through work.
We met on an unlit industrial estate in the rain, I looked the BMW320i over with a flashlight and gave him the money.
This is probably how my non car buddy felt when he volunteered to come along to buy my RX-7. He was not prepared for the 13 hour journey that followed.
That being said, from what I hear about desolate desert areas, I feel a lot better buying from the sparsely populated areas of Northern Ontario and Quebec. The wildlife, not the people, are the concern up here. Especially the goddamn Moose.
Nice work, Griffin! As one who grew up in Arizona and can appreciate the fact that there may be very interesting people living in remote desert areas, I understand the bit of trepidation you felt once you figured out where David was taking you.
David estimated that the entire errand would take two hours, even though Google maps said that’s just the driving time one-way?! Engineers are supposed to be *good* at guesstimation.
David was calculating without accounting for wind, friction, temperature and pressure changes, etc.
He was assuming a perfectly spherical Aztec in a vacuum.
You’re expecting design skills to translate into life skills and I can *assure* you they often do not.
(source: Dad was an engineer lol)
When you told your mother this story, did she ask,”What’s wrong with you?”
I sent her the write up, and she hasn’t yelled at me yet which either means I’m a lost cause in her eyes or she doesn’t support my career as a writer
Haha, very fun writing, thanks for sharing.
A fantastic piece, thank you. Welcome Griffin!
Never say ‘Yes’ to David Tracy unless you have all the details.
Never.
A lesson I’m learning a little bit more each day!
Most of the time I don’t think DT even has all the details sorted.
I have seen no indications that your “Most of the time” isn’t a gross under exaggeration.
I usually say yes to David’s ideas before he’s even finished pitching them. lol
I loved reading the other side of this story. 10/10
Great writing, I loved it.
Welcome, Griffin. I enjoyed the piece.
Much appreciated, Myk El!
You are far more sensible than I am. It’s commonly known that you could set out a pile of rust covered with a box propped up with a stick and a sign saying “free Italian trash” and I’d happily get myself into a predicament and probably accept my death.
Nice! There aren’t many of those around anymore. Is your Chevette manual or automatic?
manual, baby!!! 6 speed on the LS2, it’s everything I need in this world and then some
lmao not sure if missed the joke or ignored the diss, but either way … seriously that’s really cool. Enjoy it!
I knew a guy in high school whose parents asked him what kind of car he wanted when he got his license.
He said he wanted a Vette.
They bought him a Chevette.
that is hilarious
Make yourself the one wanting the ‘vette & you’ve got a Rodney Dangerfield bit!
oh no diss or joke, saying ‘baby’ with enthusiasm or like a really rad T800 saying “hasta la vista, baby.” my bad!
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chevrolet_Chevette
please burn this.
You’re good, I was the one with the diss – I was pretending to assume you had a Chevette (awful economy car from decades ago) instead of a Corvette.
GOT IT! yeah I’ll politely pass on the Chevette, thank you though
OMG, he is too young to get the reference.
I’ll be watching Wheel of Fortune and then going to bed now.