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
As somebody who lives in a community that is ‘vilified’ in media, this story, and the way it was presented in the original story, really come off as super elitest and kinda gorss.
People living in places different than where you live and part of different communities are not somehow inherently dangerous. The idea that you can somehow devine a persons intentions from where they live is ridiculous.
Most people do not mean you harm and have mostly good intentions regardless of where they come from.
I expect better than this kind of content from y’all.
Sorry that it came off that way, as my only intention was telling a story about a trip with me and the Bossman. As I told another commenter, I’ve got nothing but love for communities like this, despite me being visually ‘other’ in them, and despite that, I’ve got deep connections to the towns and many people in them.
As I recommended to that other commenter, if you’re into the outdoors and ever find yourself in Northern AZ, I recommend you check out Cleator and Crown King. Lovely places that I’ve written articles about here (sorry for linking to another site, again, DT and Matt). If you go to the saloon there, ask Lori about me. Y’all are my people, trust me
It is all good; I do not think any ill intention was meant!
The subject of how communities are represented is a sensitive issue for me; I work with several organizations working with youth that have to fight the reputation of the communities they are based in.
Not many people think about how stuff like this is portrayed. I just happen to have it in the front of my mind a lot more than most.
I appreciate your thoughtful response and your taking the time to address my concerns
Breaking through stereotypes and reputations are tough business, no doubt about it. I used to volunteer a lot in reservations in Northern AZ and seeing the adversity that they (and later on, many friends of mine from those communities) had to put up with is beyond me. Makes me grateful to at least be born with boots to pull myself up with (although the boots didn’t come with the boot straps. they couldn’t make it too easy for me)
Maybe relax a bit?
No.
Great story, sounds like it all worked out other than a certain Getrag transmission. I’ve bought and sold FAR too many cars (and associated parts) over the last 20 years and have generally followed the public place rule with a lot of success. The last two cars I’ve, sold the buyer was more cautious than I was, which gives me some faith in humanity.
Everything I buy and sell that’s more than Walmart money I do through Craigslist. I’ve had good luck, never been murdered, and have actually met some interesting people.
I only got murdered on Craigslist once. But I got better afterwards.
I have yet to have a bad FB or CL meet up, which tends to restore my faith in humanity. This includes delivering couches to some pretty crappy neighborhoods.
Definitely no bad meet ups (though I did buy a BMW from the Russian Mob once – that one was a little sketchy but turned out fine). That involved getting picked up at PHL, a ride in a Porsche Cayenne at speeds that made me wish for Nomex and a helmet, and a bit of waiting while a dozen or more Russian dudes in the back of a Mainline Lincoln-Mercury dealership scrambled around looking for a misspaced title, screaming at each other in Russian all the while. Which they did eventually find.
But one really, really odd never-ending series of text messages with some dude who could not quite wrap his head around the fact that I *do not* negotiate my prices. My price is THE price, just like Walmart (and cheap like Walmart, as a rule). Take it, leave it, I don’t care, I don’t play games, if you don’t buy it somebody else will.
I went to look at a Camry that the seller insisted on driving himself during my test drive. He then drove it like a taxi rushing a woman in labor to the hospital. He wouldn’t even start to negotiate because according to him, “Everyone wants to buy a Camry!”. The potential buyer before me passed on it, and I did, too.
Most Craigslist interactions have been positive, except the rude people when you offer something for free, who can’t put together a single coherent sentence.
I once bought a car with cash, which I brought in a thick envelope of fresh hundreds from the credit union. While the seller counted one half he asked me to count the other half.
The last car I sold, the guy showed up with a brown paper bag full of $20 bills. I guess it went fine though.
Everytime I’ve offered to meet a seller at my credit union to get a cashier check, they said just to bring a cashier check to their house and we signed over titles there. This included our Airstream and Miata #2. For Miata #1, it was at a used car dealer and he took a personal check for it. I offered to pull up my banking app on my phone to at least show him the funds were there, but he didn’t worry about that either. These people all had way more trust than I do. If I ever sell anything, I either want cash or a cashier check that you get while I’m at your bank with you. I don’t even trust cash that much anymore.
I never worry much about it either way. Nominally, I am a BIG black dude (albeit a well-dressed and well-spoken one) – I have never been scared for my physical safety in my life. The stuff I am buying and selling aren’t things likely to be scammer targets either way, and it’s couch-cushion money.
I have actually NEVER had a car dealer not take a personal check, and I have bought a TON of cars. Helps to not look even remotely sketchy and have a diamond-encrusted credit rating.
How big are we talking
Well that got weird fast….
It’s very polite of you to genericize your warning by saying “a car enthusiast,” but we all know the true problem here was a little more specific than that.
I have no clue what you’re implying :))))))))
Hearing this story really makes me think considering the few times I’ve bought a car or used furniture around here it’s usually by doing it in some dude’s driveway in the woods with no cell reception. Because a pretty good chunk of people in this state live in the woods where there’s no cell reception. That’s just normal for me, but it must be terrifying for others. Or maybe I should stop agreeing to meet people at their house to buy things…
I mean I’m a guy who’s a big believer in threat/danger mitigation, but the (anecdotal) truth is that it’s so unlikely for anything bad to happen to you in nearly every situation; just statistically. i’ve met however many thousands of people and how many of them have murdered me? none. most have threatened to and beaten me up and took my lunch money, but i’m still alive and that counts for something!
I’m just used to essentially “falling off the map” for hours or even days at a time. Nobody can call me and I don’t have any indication of where I’m going other than knowing how state route numbering works. That’s my norm. I grew up without a cellphone even when that was becoming increasingly abnormal and just sort of fell into being the type of person nobody sees as worthwhile to threaten. But so many people are used to having immediate communication to third parties and access to things like GPS or Google Maps. Combine that with an increasingly polarized populace reducing certain groups’ safety and it is actually terrifying for them to lose access to those safety nets.
My rule when buying a car from a private seller, take the Volt that looks like a Cruze, leave it running on EV mode (very quiet), share live location with my spouse and text when all is good. The hard part is convincing my spouse why is a good purchase lol
Cool cool cool, so what I’m hearing is stick to actual car dealers and pay the few hundred more than private seller wants so you don’t get shanked, shot, or learn all the notes to dueling banjos in a very inappropriate way, check.
If it’s only a few hundred dollars, then absolutely go to a dealer
yanno, I could stand to do some dueling banjos nonsense actually…
The song yes, the movie it’s used in not so much 😀
I trust the random guy with a meth problem out in the desert more than I trust the average professional car salesperson.
Amen to that.
After a drunk killed my beloved ‘03 Suburban I was in the market for a new used Suburban in the fall of 2013 on the north side of Philly. I followed all of my usual instincts: meet in a neutral spot, do some research on the seller first, run a carfax, take any perspective candidates to my awesome mechanic (shoutout to Dave and staff at Tom Sawyer auto in Willow Grove!), etc.
But 40 days and over a dozen attempts later I still hadn’t found anything that wasn’t a piece of shit or a rip-off. My car rental insurance had run out so I was using my grandmother’s former ride – a well-kept but shitty from birth 4-cyl 92 Corsica – and I was getting dangerously frustrated.
One morning rhe clouds parted and a shining beacon stood out: a clean, 2 owner, low-ish miles 2004 Suburban with a clean Carfax and good pictures! Yes! The only hangup was it was across the border into New Jersey which could be a problem.
For those not acquainted with the bizarre Pennsylvania DMV laws, when buying or selling a vehicle *both* parties must be at the shady auto tags office when transferring the title. I’m guessing this is due to the outstanding amount of creative vehicular accounting on both sides of the Penn/NJ border. This is usually not a problem when buyers or sellers are local, but kind of a pain when a seller is an hour or more away and just wants rid of the thing.
But this guy didn’t mind coming over to me! And his price was right ($7500, IIRC)! And he could come over today after work! Double yes!!! In a fit of ignorance and desperation I forwent all of my usual safety moves and gave the SOB my home address and a time to meet. The plan was that he’d come to my house, I’d look the thing over, then we’d drive to the auto tags place, I’d give him the cash, we’d sign the title, I’d drive him back to his place in NJ, and finally I’d be back in a Suburban again!
After a call to my insurance folks to start coverage (I’m always insanely picky about that part, at least) and about 6 hours, the guy shows up at my house. And my heart drops – it ain’t the same Suburban. Without even looking at the VIN it was obvious that other than the color and year it wasn’t the same vehicle. I greet the guy, pop the hood, and am greeted with a mess under there, not the clean, shiny intake cover and new battery I’d been led to believe I’d see.
Now really pissed, I grab the keys and stomp around to the back to pop the hatch (noticing a lot of rear bumper damage) and the second thing I notice after the fact that the interior didn’t even come close to matching the pictures I’d been sent was the single thing lying on the cargo hold floor.
A tire iron.
The motherf*cker was going to get me in the car and smash my head in over $7500.
The red mist descended – as much at myself as at this unscrupulous POS – and I grabbed the tire iron and started screaming at the guy while simultaneously dialing 911. I chased him out of my driveway and into the road before I realized that he’s probably packing, so half screaming/half yelling I shout the plate number and guy’s supposed name off to the dispatcher, hands shaking, and run back into the house.
As UD’s finest arrived less than a minute later I realized I’ve got the keys in my hand. HA HA!!! He’s screwed!! A win for the good guys!
One hour, multiple statements, handing over all of the emails and pictures that had been exchanged, the first responder – young enough to be my son – kindly told me, “you do know it’s not safe to give people your home address or have them meet you there when buying or selling a car?”
“Yes officer. Thank you. I messed up.”
They towed the car and somehow the guy managed to walk his way out of there to either an accomplice’s car or to one of the two nearby train stations. I never got any follow up to an arrest or what the story was behind the car in which the guy showed up.
Lesson learned. I don’t ever want to do that again.
Follow-up: I found a clean, low-mileage 2005 that was perfect other than a dented fender and a ripped driver’s seat at a Mercedes dealer in VA the next day on auto trader. I paid a little more than I’d wanted to but wound up getting 120,000 trouble-free miles out of the thing so there was a semi-decent ending to the whole mess.
That shit is crazy. I am glad I never ran into that situation when selling/buying anything on Craigslist or Facebook. Only crazy story I have was when selling my the old rear end out my firebird the rural type kids that came to pick it up came in a early 2000s 2dr Honda Civic was funny watching them load it into the trunk. When I bought my old F350 or my Cummins both those transactions took place at the peoples homes with no issues. And when I sold my 73 Javelin they came and looked at it in person at my home but my house is in a wooded rural area in Indiana and I am always conceal carrying so I would hope that would deter away the types you ran into.
Glad you are safe though and did find a good suburban.
And, you moved to a new address immediately, right?
okay you win. the danger was all in my head on this one but yours is real. Sorry that happened to you but my god what an insane story
Not a contest…I’ve had some terrifying encounters buying stuff out in the boonies. I can only imagine what the deepest, most remote desert holds.
While you seem to have things figured out for next time, FWIW PA does not require both parties be present to transfer title, although I suppose an individual tag place could have that general policy. For a PA title it needs to be notarized, which is usually easiest to handle at the same time as a transaction, but not absolutely necessary. Seller can have the title notarized and buyer information filled in on their own and then give/mail it to the buyer to finish the transfer and registration at a different time on their own. If buying from NJ, and other states which do not require notarization, you just need a signed title, (ideally) a bill of sale, and a vin verification (which typically will be done by the notary at the tag place, but can also be done by a police officer or inspection mechanic).
We didn’t have easy access to a notary at the time and at least twice they hassled me about it so I always just drug the buyer/seller with me. I also sent several buyers away to far off places towards Pennsyltucky with warnings they were going to have trouble only to have them have to make the trip again.
Buying out of state wasn’t a problem (except NJ, but maybe that’s changed). I drug cars and bikes home from WV, IL, MD, and OH and never had a problem.
Hope you let Griffin write/post more frequently. That was a good story.
And well written to boot! Looking forward to more.
and mom said my journalism degree was a joke, how dare she!
gotta keep y’all wanting more!!!
Great story/reporting. I look forward to more!
Too bad DT didn’t schedule some time in to see the Tehachapi Loop.
If only I’d known!
Reefer City sounds like fun
I heard that’s what Snoop Dogg’s home is named!
As expected, it’s actually named after refrigerated rail cars. And it’s a ghost town. That sounds like a fun place to go poking around with a camera.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reefer_City,_California
So, Tehatchapi sounds better in that Little Feat song than it turns out to actually be…
I understood that reference!
Lol, my southern-rock addled brain IMMEDIATELY went there!
Next stops, Tucson, Tucumcari and Tonopah
went to school in tucson, so now I just need the latter two and I’ll have checked all the boxes!
brb, obsessing over this song, cracking a beer, then hitting the back roads in my jeep. (not in that order)
You’re welcome. Don’t miss Dixie Chicken while you’re at it.
another incredible song. If I wrote TMD, these would be linked at the bottom I assure you
Wow a whole lot of we went somewhere different where the people aren’t like us they want to kill us. Just saying
Didn’t mean any offense if it came off that way to you; just wanted to tell a fun story for y’all. ‘Everyone’ is different than me back in these communities in AZ and I’m still on a first name basis with many of those locals. Believe me, I love ’em. If you’re into the outdoors and ever find yourself in Northern AZ, I recommend you check out Cleator and Crown King. Lovely places, and I wrote an article about them here (sorry for linking to another site, DT and Matt)
As a prior resident of Bullhead City Az I’ve been to many of these small population areas. I got lost one night coming back from Phoenix thru the desert no interior lights low on gas ended up in Blythe CA and buying gas from a guy a waitress at the one open place in town and he brought a 5 gallon gas container to the restaurant. Good times. I enjoyed the story and appreciate your explanation of the situation.
Hey Griffin sorry for my part in making this a big thing. I wasn’t insulted but I felt it was pertinent that in prior comments people get attacked. The story was a good read and your use of people being different was funny. Keep it up just keep in mind keep it the same when things are reversed. You are a great writer
Y’know, my wife constantly tells me I have to accompany my 21 year old daughter to the store at night. It never occurs to me that it might be dangerous for her. I feel bad when my wife has to say “It’s dark. She’s tiny. GO WITH HER.”
I’m glad things worked out for Griffin and David, but man, we as a species have GOT to do better…
I was one of a handful of guys in a grad program in the late 2000’s. One night when a bunch of us were unwinding, I got asked what it was like being able to go get groceries after dark. That started opening my eyes about gender inequality. Agreed, we need to do better.
Gender wise, I’ve always felt safe: I’m a 6’2 bigger built guy clocking in just shy of 200. The racial element has made me feel disadvantaged at times though.
I once did a shoot for my school paper in the middle of the night on our Greek row that saw me carrying a tripod that could look like a firearm, a camera with a huge zoom lens i’m pointing in different frat and sorority houses, and I’m wearing a huge hoodie because it was dead of winter.
I called the university PD to say “hey, my name is Griffin, I’m a Black kid doing this, yada yada, just letting you know in case you get calls reporting a suspicious person,” to protect my ass just in case. Dispatch replies “well you are being suspicoius.” I said “I’m sorry?” “You’re being suspicious.” “Uhhhh…” followed by a “Haha! I’m just joking. Thanks for calling!”
Didn’t feel like the potential for cultural sensitivity was reached that night but whatever. Such is life sometimes!
Griffin, thank you for relating this story!
I’m having a hard time comprehending what it must be like for you having to think about “what happens when I get suspicious cops called on me because of my skin color.” Yes, I’m a white male. That’s how messed up our society is that you have to think so defensively since your skin color, that you didn’t ask for and can’t change, can land you in a heap of legal trouble just for existing.
Thank you again for sharing and helping educate me!
Educating is all we can do, my friend! It’s how we build the bridges. But hey, being Black is cool all things considered! I get to say an otherwise censored word when I want to so I think that makes up for it just fine 🙂
Maybe after a couple times you’d have learned and she wouldn’t have to keep reminding you, no?
My neighbors two doors down are the friendliest, unthreatening people and try to go walking in our safe neighborhood every day. That said, I noticed that they started carrying things with them. A tennis racket, field hockey stick, and I can’t remember the third one, but it was odd. Only one of them carry these items.
My troubleshooting brain worked on this for a couple of weeks before I realized someone or some animal must have threatened them, so they want to have something at hand to threaten them back. My neighbors are of African descent.
We live in a diverse town. I offer even odds about animal versus people, especially with the vitriol that the political race brought out.
As for my pasty-skinned self, I happily walk around cities and towns when I visit them, and rarely feel threatened. Sometimes I do feel out of place, though.
An exciting adventure
In my experience this can be a lot to ask when looking at a car that doesn’t run. Or isn’t registered and insured. Or doesn’t run and isn’t registered and insured. Or doesn’t run, isn’t registered and insured, and is in another country.
In that last case it turns out to be simpler just to buy sight-unseen and hope for the best.
Touche!
Huge fan of anyone whose immediate response to vague shenanigans is ‘Fuck it, let’s roll’.
Side quests all day! I love the potential for a story, so I say yes way more than I should and much to the chagrin of my parents
In my mind, every road trip with DT is basically like Kramer’s “Peterman Reality Tour” (it’s from Seinfeld, David. That was a TV show in the 90s) with a 30% higher chance of perishing in a ball of fire.
as long as I get some muffin stumps I’m in.
I was thinking Quantum Leap. You never sure where you are going, what will end up happening, or when you will return
See: David doesn’t get the reference because his media literacy is lacking, I don’t get it because I’m a child. I gotta research that episode now
It sounds like your Corvette would have been the more reliable vehicle to take out there, but if the goal was to not look like city boys to a bunch of cannibals the Aztek was the better choice. These close knit cannibal communities know that they have to get their food from the outside.
It’s true! Cannibals see a Corvette coming their way and they know a good meal waits inside
Apparently, you young folks have forgotten the fate of every Black man (or red shirt guy) on an Away Team in Star Trek. If somebody’s not coming home, it’s that guy. Also, if I wanted to allay your fears and set you up for a fall, I’d text “all is well” on David’s phone, too. Funny story, regardless.
Definitely wasn’t around for the Trek reference but I believe it! As for the latter point: YEAH. That was definitely a thought of mine I can’t lie
You need code words for next time (it’s David Tracy, there will be a next time) to confirm it’s David. You could text “Shower?” And he’d respond, “spaghetti.” Or you send “Jeep” and he replies “kittens.” That should keep you safe, unless the bad guys read The Autopian and, statistically, how many of those can there be? Kidding.
I was literally just reading up on military signs and countersigns the other day for a personal thing I’ve been writing. Just like how they used ‘flash’ and ‘thunder’ during D-Day. good thinking!
I love the video and how you have to admit that you had no idea what you accidentaly signed up for haha. Great write up on a fun adventure that I am glad did not result in anyone getting skinned or organs harvested.
Glad you digged (Dug?) it! Let’s hope we don’t get skinned on the next adventure either
This sounds pretty much like par for the course. I plan 3 or 4 hours to look/retrieve vehicle, easily gonna take 9. Every time. I once took 5 hours to retrieve a ’69 Wagoneer I had purchased. The drive was 65 miles…
I like to think the lack of editor’s notes is david knowing what he did
I feel comfortable in rural communities, but I will admit that I forgot that I had someone else with me until we got close, and had the thought: Hold on, I can be reckless when it’s just me. But I can’t let Griffin potentially have his organs harvested. Hence the “you drop me off” plan.
The seller was nice! Even showed me his AR.
Hey, get off here and go back to honeymooning Mrs. Tracy!
Did he show you the AR before or after cash changed hands?
I believe it was a locked and loaded, one in the chamber ‘where’s your money’ situation, but he got a car out of it so it was good business anyways!