This afternoon (Saturday) I was working around the house minding my own business when the doorbell rings. Lucas answers and comes to tell me there's a guy at the door who wants to buy my old 1987 Plymouth Sundance, which was parked on the street in front of my house. I come upstairs and this dude asks me if I want to sell the thing. Right out of the blue. I tell him "$100 and it's yours." He leaves and comes back 20 minutes later with five 20-dollar bills (NOT xeroxed--I checked). He didn't even test-drive the thing. Otherwise he would have found out about the bad brakes and leaky power steering. He took the title and drove it away and I pocketed the cash and that (SO far!) was the end of it.
I assume he must have wanted a beater for around-town driving or hunting or fishing or something disposable for a drug run or bank job or mob hit or some other nefarious task. DO NOT CARE.
I didn't even have a "for-sale" sign in the window or an ad in the paper or anything. As far as I was concerned the thing's next destination was going to be the junk yard. So what possessed this total stranger to just stop and ask me if I wanted to sell this piece of junk?
I hope this doesn't come back to bite me in the ass!
Kevin
I assume he must have wanted a beater for around-town driving or hunting or fishing or something disposable for a drug run or bank job or mob hit or some other nefarious task. DO NOT CARE.
I didn't even have a "for-sale" sign in the window or an ad in the paper or anything. As far as I was concerned the thing's next destination was going to be the junk yard. So what possessed this total stranger to just stop and ask me if I wanted to sell this piece of junk?
I hope this doesn't come back to bite me in the ass!
Kevin
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