Oil Try Again Somewhere Else

, , , , | Right | July 23, 2016

(I’m selling my car to raise money for a move to Japan in 2011. I’ve found a prospective buyer and let her have a test drive. We’re getting to the time to change out money and car and she brings her husband who takes his time to go around the car.)

Husband: “We can’t pay your asking price for this.”

Me: “Why not?”

Husband: “It’s leaking oil, see?”

(Points under the car to where a small amount of liquid has discolored the pavement.)

Husband: “It’ll cost is too much to keep it running.”

Me: “That’s funny. It doesn’t use that much oil.”

Husband: “Well, we’ll still have to ask you to drop the price to [amount way lower than what will get me the money I need for the move].”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t afford to go that low. I wouldn’t have enough money to get to my new job.”

Husband: “Well, the highest I can go would be [price that is still way too low].”

Me: “No. I think I’ll have call this off and find someone else, then.”

Husband: “Are you sure? You’re not going get it sold to anyone with that leak.”

Me: “Yeah, I think so. Sorry for wasting your time.”

(Husband and Wife look bewildered that I’m not willing to haggle but leave anyway. I take my car back to my parents’ home where I’m staying before heading to Japan.)

Father: “They were trying to scam you.”

Me: “It kinda felt like that, but how can you know?”

Father: “There’s no oil stains on our driveway. If you were leaking oil there’d be at least one.”

(I later had my mechanics look for leaks and they found none, saying the only liquid was coming from condensation. I took the car to a used car place and got about 90% of my asking price… more than double the best price the husband offered me. The used car place’s damage report only found cosmetic damage and found the engine and car itself to be in excellent condition. I am still in Japan.)

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Almost Makes You Want To Re-Tire

, , | Right | January 27, 2010

Customer: “They charged me $110 for working on my car?!”

Me: “What did you have done?”

Customer: “I just came because the car said service was needed on the car.”

Me: “Yes, you got an oil change and tire rotation, state inspection, and a car wash.”

Customer: “Tire rotation? Aren’t they always, like, rotating as I drive?”

Me: “Yes, but the tires are removed and swapped; the tires on the rear are moved to the front, and the fronts to the rear. It’s to help the tires wear out evenly.”

Customer: “They wear out?”

Me: “Eventually, yes. They do.”

Customer: “Why?”

(I try to describe traction, friction, and the breakdown of soft compounds like tire tread over concrete.)

Customer: *blank stare* “Isn’t my car pretty?”

(As the customer leaves, they pull on the door about three times before they see the push sign.)

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Car Parked, Brain In Neutral

, , , | Right | January 1, 2010

Customer: “Hi, um, my car was stolen.”

Me: “Well, okay, let’s go out and see where you’re parked.”

(We walk into the parking lot.)

Me: “Okay, where did you park?”

Customer: “Right there, where the Prius is parked! God d*** tree-hugging Democrat piece of s***!”

Me: “Okay, well, let’s go inside and call the police.”

(While we wait for the police to come she makes some phone calls and then comes back into the office.)

Customer: “Sorry, never mind. Turns out I drove the Prius today and not the Honda.”

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Random Acts Of Wetness

, , , | Right | December 1, 2009

(I work at a convenience store with an automatic car wash that’s located in a seedy part of town. One day, a man walks in wearing a pure white t-shirt and jeans, both liberally smeared with his own feces.)

Man: “Help! Help! Man, you gotta come help!”

Me: “Are you okay? Do you need me to call an ambulance for you or something?”

Man: “No! You gotta get out here?”

Me: “What’s wrong? Do I need to call the cops?”

Man: “No! In the car wash! You gotta help!”

(I go outside to the car wash when a little old lady — completely soaking wet — bumps into me and shoves her car keys in my hand.)

Little Old Lady: “You go! You wash car!”

(As I walk into the car wash, I see that she missed the wheel guides when she drove in.)

Me: “What–”

Little Old Lady: “You wash d*** car now, please!”

(I take her keys and get her car in the wash correctly. About halfway through the five-minute cycle, I realize that I just left the store unattended and begin thinking the worst. Finally, the wash is done and I drive around to the front of the store. I’m surprised to see the soaking wet lady standing in front of the entrance with her arms spread wide, blocking anyone from entering. There’s a line of about a dozen customers in front of her that stretches down the sidewalk. I get out and give her back her keys.)

Little Old Lady: “Thank you! You nice young man!”

First Customer In Line After The Lady: “What the h*** just happened?!”

(As for the man covered in feces, I later found out that there was nothing wrong with him besides the fact that he routinely got so drunk that he crapped himself.)

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Driving Miss Ditzy

, , , | Right | November 25, 2009

Me: “Hello, ma’am. Would you like me to take your groceries to your car?”

Customer: “…into MY car?”

Me: “Yes, I can do that for you.”

Customer: “You want a lift in my car!”

Me: “No, ma’am. I can take your groceries to your car for you and return the trolley.”

Customer: “But I still have groceries in my trolley! You can’t take my trolley yet! I’m not done!”

Me: “Ma’am, if you want to do it yourself, that’s fine.”

Customer: “Wait! I need help!”

Me: “All right, where did you park your car?”

Customer: “Hold on! Why the h*** do you need to know where my car is?”

Me: “So I can put your things in there.”

Customer: “No, this doesn’t sound right. I’m onto you!”

(The customer shuffles away with her trolley, periodically turning around to look at me suspiciously.)

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