An OKC Fan Is Selling His Car, And It Has The Faces Of Thunder Players Painted On It

                                                    
How To Buy A Used Car

                                                       
© 2012  Alan Abel

      I am appalled by the number of
people who innocently buy used cars. Some select the shiniest ones. Yet none of
these buyers can tell a carburetor from a piston.

    
The secret for buying a used car is to meet the previous owner. Ask to
spend a night as their house guest. 
You’ll find out what he or she is like personally and soon know if
you’re buying a lemon. For example, if you discover that the former owner wears
raggedy underwear, such a person would ignore holes in the car’s radiator.

    
Recently, I considered buying a 1980 Plymouth at the bargain price of
$299.  The dealer was willing to
throw in a set of dishes and an orange juice squeezer.  I insisted on meeting the former owner
and he agreed.

    
Mr. Fred Brower was a retired IRS agent and this is what I discovered
after only twenty-four hours in his bungalow:

1.     He
was thirty pounds overweight, had curvature of the spine, a pot belly and  he walked bowlegged!  His car was a perfect twin. The
radiator bulged, wheels were out of line, and the tailpipe dragged noisily.

2.     Mr.
Brower served me canned meatballs for dinner, so I knew he bought the cheapest
gas. This explained why the motor had a knock and the universal joint screeched
like a sperm whale in heat.

3.     One
of his suspenders was ripped and patched with paper clips. The car’s fan belt
was torn and held together by bobby pins. 
Mr. Brower had dirty fingernails. Sure enough the car’s spark plugs were
caked with grime.

4.     I
purposely dropped a cigar ash on my host’s living room rug.  He rubbed it into the moth-eaten rug.
Naturally, his car’s upholstery was covered with cigarette burns.

5.     Mr.
Brower’s shoes were terribly run down. The car’s tires were worn to the tubes.
He had glued fake rubber on them for the illusion of a recap job.

6.     When
I learned he hadn’t had his eyes examined in over two years, I checked out the
auto’s headlights. Both bulbs were too dim to see anything at night.

7.     Mr.
Brower never wore socks.  Nor were
his brakes lined. In order to come to a dead stop, I had to use the emergency
brake and shift quickly into reverse.

8.     All
the clocks in his house were twenty minutes slow. After drinking cheap wine he
admitted he had turned back the odometer 20,000 miles..

9.     His
teeth hadn’t been cleaned in three years. The only time he ever washed his car
was the day he drove to his mother’s funeral.                                                    
                                                                             When I
confronted the used car dealer with all my evidence, he offered to sell me this
jalopy for only $150. But without the dishes or orange juice squeezer. So the
next time you see an ad that says, “Used car hardly ever driven by high fashion
model,” I suggest you first spend a night with the owner.    
(abelalan2000@yahoo.com)

It’s going for $3,000, if you’re interested.