My husband tells me I don’t know anything about cars, I don’t know anything about business and negotiating, and that I should stop trying to help. I agree with some of that, but let me tell you how my friend Sandra and I sold our car, for the full asking price this afternoon.
Two years ago, Chris, my husband spent £27,000 on an old sports car. He was very excited to have his dream car for Sunday drives and I have to admit it was very shiny and pretty. It was completely reliable until the first time he took it out for a drive when it had to be towed home. Teething troubles he said, tinkering under the bonnet on the driveway, he had never fixed a car in his life. Two weeks, and a few hundred pounds later at the local garage, he drove it for over a week before it failed again.
The car had never been reliable. At first, Chris would say all classics are temperamental, but it turned into a money pit and I know he hid most of the costs from me. Three months ago Chris got the car back from the local specialist again with a long list of jobs that should be done. I saw the quote. I didn’t understand a lot of it, but rewiring, new carburetors, new front brakes and a gearbox thingy added up to over £5,000.
Chris moped about, polished the car, and decided a classic was not for him and advertised it on the internet. We got quite a few calls, and a good number of people came to see the car. It was obvious most of the people who came knew more about cars than Chris. The highest offer Chris got was just under £20,000 but he originally wanted to get his £27,000 back at a minimum. He tried to haggle the last person to £22,000 but failed. He told me to make a sale he would have taken it.
Two weeks ago my good friend Sandra sold her little Nissan shopper. She had advertised it in the local paper as a lady owner's car and got her full asking price off of a man buying it for his daughter. Sandra is a very flirty twenty-eight-year-old single lady, a year older than me by the way. We met at a Keep Fit class a few years back and have been great friends ever since. She is a busty blonde with a dirty laugh and quick wit, while I am a very petite brunette.
Over coffee, I told Sandra that Chris was trying to sell the car and that he had told me to keep my nose out of it. We hatched a plan to sell the car, and Sandra advertised it that evening for £27,500 with a couple of photos. She made it sound like a great little car, a lady owner, hardly used, pretty and sporty. I thought the last few descriptive items could have been about her or me lately. Sandra used my mobile number and said she would be there any time someone wanted to see the car and work her magic to sell it.
Yesterday a man called about the car, he said he was looking for an investment and liked the sound of the description and the colour. He agreed to come in the morning to view and test drive. The strange thing with the car is that it never broke down on a test drive it was almost as if it wanted to move on from us. Sandra came around first thing in the morning to be here when he arrived. She was dressed in a tight top showing plenty of cleavage and displaying her shapely legs from mid-thigh down in a short skirt.
Sandra made me go and change. She told me to dress as if we were going out to pull. I opted for a loose blouse knotted at the bottom, a slightly longer skirt, pumps and white socks as I can’t drive in heels. While we waited for the buyer to arrive, Sandra gave me a pep talk and told me how she sold her Nissan. We also got the car out of the garage and put the top down, hoping the sun would hold.
The buyer drove up in a big BMW, he looked to be in his forties and very smartly dressed. He was walking around the car as Sandra and I came out of the front door. He then spoke to Sandra more than me, but we didn’t care who sold it. We opened the bonnet and boot, I made a point of leaning right into the boot to show the spare wheel. Sandra leaned in under the bonnet to point out the oil dipstick; her skirt rode up so far you could almost see her knickers, and the buyer stared at her legs. He sat in the car and it started the first time, he flashed the lights, tooted the horn, and made himself comfortable.