Carz: Part
II. The Flim Flam Man
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After our
mutual agreement last week that Ariel’s car with Four-in-the-Floor and not
enough wiggle room would not be a good car for my needs, Ariel went on the
search for the “Right” car.
Ariel’s
morning routine includes a strong coffee, sweet roll, and Guadalajara newspaper
at the Oxxo out on the highway. The Oxxo is a convenience store with the usual.
You could walk in the door and feel right at home.
The sweet
roll might be a disappointment because Mexican sweet rolls, at least the ones
I’ve tasted, aren’t very sweet. But the coffee machine is familiar. You can
operate it without hesitation. Unlike most instruction manuals, the newspaper
does not come in two languages, so skip the newspaper.
While
sipping coffee, seated in the front window at the Oxxo, my neighbor read the
paper, front to back. In the classified ads, Ariel found a listing for a car
that got his blood running hot. He phoned Leo who happened to be at work in my
yard that day.
The listing
was for a ten-years-old Nissan Abao with 80,000 kilometers which is almost
50,000 miles. Sweet, eh? And the asking price was only a few thousand pesos
more than Ariel’s twenty-years-old VW Bug. Should he make the phone call? He
asked.
That was a
no-brainer. Of course, make the call. Find out what is wrong with the car, was
my first thought, following the logic that if a deal sounds like “to good to be
true”, well, you fill in the blanks.
Me, I had no
idea what a Nissan Abao looked like. Abao? Never heard of it. I quit looking at
cars back in the gasoline crisis of the ‘70s when they all became little white
square boxes with no personality, no buzz to them. And nothing since then has gotten
me excited. But I do know how to operate Google to find the picture. Mmm,
sweet. Almost sporty.
An hour or
so later, Ariel came over and we sat in the back yard. Seemed the car was a
company car used by a Mabe executive. My stove and refrigerator are made by
Mabe. They have a large plant just off the road we take to Guadalajara. The
company replaces executive cars every ten years. This one had all the bells and
whistles including leather seats and newish tires.
“Sure. Set an
appointment for us to go look at the car.” If we had to, there was time; we
could even go that afternoon. I’d have to scramble for the money. Shoot, I’d
have to borrow from Leo. Guau! (That is “Wow” in Espanol.) We all got excited.
Until Ariel
returned with the bad news. The man said, “Send a deposit to hold the car.”
Ariel, who didn’t just come plucked out of the turnip patch with mud in his
ears, said, “No money until we see the car.” And hung up the phone.
“What a
perfect scam,” I said. “What a great story. All the juicy details to create
instant rapport. I’ll bet a lot of people send money, depending on their means.
A thousand pesos, three thousand, five or eight. Executive car, indeed!” How
rich! Flim Flam Scam.
Was I
disappointed? Sure. A little bit. I think we all felt a bit let down. It
doesn’t take long to be able to imagine myself comfy in the tan leather seats,
hands at two and ten on the wheel, heading over the mountains to Puerto
Vallarta, wind in my hair, suitcase in the trunk, gas tank topped, making the
maiden run.
“What is
going on with you, Woman? You’ve happily gone eight years without a car. Why
are you looking for one now? (I can talk with myself if I want.) Yes, now! Now,
when you, by your own precautions, refuse to travel because of the on-going
pandemic. Now you want a car?”
“Doesn’t
matter, does it? Both the VW and the Nissan slipped through my fingers. (I can
answer myself too.) No car. No destination.”
Wonder what
tomorrow will bring. The “car seed” has been planted. Maybe the seed will grow.
Maybe not. Meanwhile, I’m happily able to reimburse friends, neighbors and
public transportation to meet my needs. Needs and wants. Two different things,
worlds apart.
But I can
dream. Maybe a Hummer. Maybe with a chauffeur?
Sondra
Ashton
HDN: Looking
out my back door
August 5,
2021
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