Dread Not

Long-time readers will remember when I first got my Suburban, more commonly known as the Dreadnought. It has been a good car, gasoline consumption notwithstanding. But ever since we got Granny's car, the Dreadnought has been redundant. Three cars, two drivers, you see the issue. So we've been trying to sell it off an on for the past year or so. Without much luck, I might add. When gas prices are over $4.00 per gallon, there's not much demand for vehicles that average 14-17 miles per gallon. And when we did get a serious inquiry, the guy lost interest when he found out that it only seats five, not eight. Big Mormon families, I guess. Anyway, the Dreadnought remained with us through it all.

A couple of weeks ago, we finally got a serious buyer. Someone we know secondhand just had their car repossessed. When we heard about it, we asked a mutual acquaintance to pass along to them that we had a car for sale. A few phone calls ensued, and they expressed a strong interest in the car. They asked all kinds of questions about the car—what condition was it in, how did it run, what kind of mileage did it get, would it pass state inspection, and the like. We gave them as complete a description as we could of the condition and the history of the car, warts and all. They expressed their specific intention to buy the car, and arranged to come up later today to look at it and take a test drive. So we bought a new battery (the Dreadnought has been sitting in the driveway for nearly a year) and got the car cleaned up. Since the registration expired almost a year ago, I went to the DMV yesterday and got a temporary tag for the car so they could test drive it without getting pulled over. All was prepared.

Then last night, when Nancy called them to verify when they were coming to look at the car, they told her they'd decided not to buy it after all.

Having them back out at the last minute is frustrating, to say the least, and more than a little inconvenient.

I understand why they did it. Times are tough for everyone right now. They're a little tough for us, which is why we were looking forward to the sale of the car so much. I suppose it's better not to have them buy the car at all than to have them take the car and then be unable to keep their agreement with us. Taking the car back in a couple of months if they failed to make the remaining payments would have been traumatic for everyone. Better to avoid hard feelings for them and to save future frustration for all of us.

But we went out of our way to make this as easy as possible for them. We agreed to make reasonable payment arrangements with them rather than demanding the full price up front. We got the car cleaned up and made sure everything runs properly. Between replacing the battery and getting the temporary tag, we spent around $60.00 and three and a half hours of our own time on this—time and money we really could have used for better things. And the money from the sale of the car would have been a godsend for us right now.

We'd included their proposed first payment in our monthly budget, and suddenly it's not there. Yes, it's our fault for counting chickens before they're hatched, I know. And yes, we knew they were a little . . . flighty and impulsive, I guess is the best way to say it. We were warned. Honestly, we should have expected this. But we didn't—or I didn't, anyway. And now I'm feeling the frustration. And the anxiety. I have no idea how we're going to make everything work with what we now have available.

So what do we do now? I don't really know yet. But the words of a song keep coming to mind, the Finale to the Scrubs episode "My Musical":

You're going to be okay
That's what's going to happen
Everything's okay
We're right here beside you
We won't let you slip away
Plan for tomorrow
'Cause we swear to you
You're going to be okay

We just have to do what we can, remain hopeful, and not give in to the frustration. Things have always worked out for us before. They'll work out for us now. We just have to keep the faith.

Or, as my friend and co-worker Keith the Axeman would say, "Dread not!"