an open letter to a reluctant used car salesman

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first of all, man...don't take this personally. these are just my feelings on the matter.

you did seem like a nice enough fella, and i'm sure you didn't mean any harm.


this is what i choose to believe, anyway.


i mean, maybe you've forgotten, i don't know. i was the guy who bought your volkswagen van from you on eBay almost a year ago now. i took the train out to meet you and drive it back. i was really excited, because it was my second vanagon, and i fell in love with the first one...i was really upset when it finally died of old age, and yours was very, very similar to it, except in better shape...newer, too. i couldn't wait to get there and start the trip home.

well, the first omen that i chose to ignore was the traffic jam that kept me from the train station on the day i was to leave. i blew that off and just left the next day instead.

i brought my laptop with me for the trip, worked on the manuscript for my book on the way out, and finally took posession of the van after spending a great afternoon with you, and meeting your personal VW mechanic. i really enjoyed my time there, on the outskirts of wayne and garths' hometown. i finally left that afternoon and started on my way back east.

the trip went great...i remember being a little bummed out that i hadn't left earlier so that more of it would've taken place in the daylight, but no matter...i had brought tapes with me, and after a little coin manipulation to steady the speed of the cassette deck (a trick learned during a lifetime of driving shitty, shitty cars), i was jammin' and on my way home with my new and improved hippie van.

'course, then i had a flat tire at 2am, just after crossing over the pennsylvania state line.

that would be the second omen.


we put my stunted spare on the van, and i began the much slower trip back out the turnpike...i was certain that i wasn't gonna make it to work on time, but not only did i make it, i actually got home in time to take a nap for half an hour.

well, i drove the van without incident for a time...it was a short time, but a time nonetheless. first, a hose came loose and almost left me on the side of the road, save for a blast of energy that got us off the interstate and onto penn avenue before calling AAA.

oh, yeah, you've heard of them, right? AAA?

AAA is an emergency road service contractor...probably the most popular in the world. we're on really good terms. in fact, in the time between october (when i took posession of the van) and the middle of december, i used up my entire yearly allowance of free roadside assistance from AAA. four visits plus a courtesy visit that they fronted me.

out of pity, i guess.


hoses coming off, dipsticks falling into the engine, oil leaks, engines that stall and refuse to budge in the cold, non-functioning speedometers, bad brakes, worn and useless rubber that give the impression of a wind tunnel....

all these things combined over time to become greater than the sum of their inferior parts...bringing us to now, when - not more than two weeks after taking delivery of the van from my mechanic - it began leaking oil so profusely that a smoke cloud follows me wherever i go.

in two weeks, i've put over twenty quarts of oil into this money pit. twenty.


well, i've all but decided that i'm finished. i have an appointment to have it looked at by a new mechanic in a week, and if the news is bad, i've decided to sell it to the highest bidder from whatever salvage yard is willing to take it.

i've degenerated into someone for whom driving - once a source of serenity and quality alone time - has become a source of nervous tension and anxiety. i feel a palpable sense of dread when i walk out the door of my house in the morning, and when i leave work at night. when i'm driving the piece of ass-lint that you so generally referred to as a "car", my body tangibly increases in tension, and i am completely unable to relax. i listen intently to the gatlin-gun-like noises coming from the back of the van, knowing that the very next knock could easily be the last one that the engine makes. every trip i take in this van is a gift from father time at this point.


i've learned never to say "never"...it's a word i've had to eat a time or two.

so i won't say i'll "never" own another volksvagen van...

but it'll take nothing shy of a fuckin' miracle for me to ever, ever place my own money into someone elses' hands for the distorted "privelege" of driving such as piece of absolute shit as the one you sold me.


when the day comes that the kids are old enough to drive it, i may pass it on, if that's an option...i'm much more certain at this point, though, that i'll roll it into a wall like aerosmith, "livin' on the edge" style, as soon as it's replaced.


i can't wait to drive with my normal muscles in my body again.