worst car buying experience ever?

nah it grew on us after a while! Oh you didn't mean the renner?

Reverse

I used to work in car sales (Fiat Dealership)

Had an XR3 on the forcourt lovely clean thing and not that old either was a part ex for a Croma Turbo

Young lad with a tidy looking capri 1.6 laser (seemed a bit smokey on pull away but it was a capri after all) comes in to look round it several times each time same deal - capri parks on road outside looks round asks for keys has a good poke and then hands keys back and buggers off

Comes back with dad same thing

Comes back with mate same thing

Eventually after several visits comes back and starts talking about part exchnge deals - I always did the same thing offers him a test drive first and said I'd like to look over his car after (small aside it always makes people very comfortable about buying a car from you if you make a really thorough inspection of theirs - obviously you have to be carefull about calling it a shed but if you do an honest assessment and pick up a couple of small points they normally think well if he checked my car out that well he muct have checked out the one I want to buy)

While he sat drinking a nice hot cup of coffee (keeps em from leaving) I drove the Capri round the back and onto a vacant ramp (four post - whole different story for the two poster!!!)

It drove nice quiet engine, sweet box, nice clutch

Got the capri on the ramp and the underside was covered in engine oil from the crossmember back - covered equals drenched

It was not from the engine it was dry as a bone (box was too) so after I got it off the ramp I asked if he'd had an engine leak in the past - he looked a bit red faced but said no - his dad told him painting the underside of the car with old engine oil would stop it going rusty

Fair play I thought

We got on with the money side and whilst I didn't have a lot of profit in the XR3 the Capri I thought was nice and would sell on with just a clean and vallet (once we jet washed the engine oil of it)

He was a hard customer to find a middle ground on but in teh end I offered him very good money on the capri and he realised he wasn't going to better the deal and we shook hands on the deal - no finance cash the following friday when he got paid

Following friday he turned up paid the cash we exchanged keys and off he went

When I put the Capri round the back it was rattling like a bag of spanners - smoking like a train and gearbox felt like treakle - to top it all the clutch was only just a clutch

Up on the ramp it went and you could see engine and box were leaking from every seal going.......

Reason he wanted the week before collection was so he could swap the engine and box back to the original

Lost a bundle geting it all put right - and all paid for from my hard earned sales commision

NOT a happy bunny!!!!

That's a pretty horrific story Shortcut! I think I'd be plotting some sort of napalm attack on the dealer's home if I found out he'd wrecked my car!

Here's my worst car (almost) buying experience...

My Benz was laid up as I was busy grinding out all the grot, so I needed another car to run about it.
My friend said that a bloke he knew had a Skoda Rapid that he didn't want any more, and said that we could go to his farm and see it on the weekend. "Excellent," I thought, as I was keen to relive my Rapid-owning days.
The night before however, I'd gotten a little carried away at a cider farm (I was living in Somerset at the time, so it'd be rude not to really!), so was feeling pretty damn rough the following morning when we jumped in the car and went over to the farm, fighting waves of nausea all the way.

We walked up the path and I could see the Skoda, with the (frankly mental-looking) owner standing nearby. The car was at a 45 degree angle, in a ditch. I stumbled over for a closer look. The windows were missing and the interior was covered in chicken sh*t and feathers, as the guy had decided it would make a cosy home for his chickens.
Once I got a nose-full of the stink inside, that was it. Breakfast made a second appearance.
I was walking over to the farm house for a drink of water, when the farmer's Jack Russell spotted me, sprinted towards me and launched itself into the air and bit me on the rse.

It remains the ONLY car I've ever went to see and not bought.

some time ago I weas on a forum and the topic on AMC Ambassadors turns up. And as we are chatting I mention I do like them and one member says "Oh, I have one of those".... Turns out he's owned the car for years , sold it to his brother, his brother did little with it just left it really, so he'd bought it back and barn stored it. It was a rare 290 V8 RHD convertible, possibly the motorshow car from 1967. Wow. So we negotiated by phone and he said he'd get an MOT on it and I'd come down and see it and if I liked it, drive it home.

Thing is he lived in Devon.

So I get a call to say its passed its MOT.

So the following Saturday I make arrangements to go see it.

Here is the plan...

Drive to Nottingham station. Catch the 7:05 from Nottingham to Derby. Arrive at 7:40. Catch the 7:50 express service to Execter. Arrives 12:00. Get picked up at the station and go see the car.

If I like it I go to the post office and get it taxed, drive it home. approx 4 hours drive so I'll be back by 6?

This gives me 2 hours for Em to run me down to pick the car up from the station, and for me to get ready and we are going out at 8 to the pub, then on to a club.

If the car is cack, then I can catch the 4 o'clock train back to Nottingham and I'll be back in by 8. Pick up the car at the station. Job done, drive home.

It sounds so simple doesn't it?

Well, I got the 7:05 from Nottingham and it arrived in Derby at 7:40 bang on time. So I ask the station-dude where I get the 7:50 express to Exeter from. He says "Ah, that goes at 7:30 now, you missed it!"

Railenquiries and the website are both working to the old time table.

Gits.

So the next train to Exeter is at 10 oclock and doesn;t get in until like 3 in the afternoon.

Bum.

But I can still do it. The car has to be good and I have to drive it home because the chances of getting the 4 pm train back are slim otherwise. But it might still be doable. Oh, and 4pm is the LAST TRAIN back.

So the rest of the journey down is uneventful. I get pickedup at Exeter station by the vendor in is Mustang rag top and we nip out to the farm where the car is. via his house. Its nearly 4 by the time we get to see the car. Nothig happens quickly in Devon. Right now this is my only ride home. Em texts me "are you on your way back yet?" and I'm not even looking at the car yet.

Its in a proper farm yard, full of mad farm dogs. Once we have them under control (a bit) I start looking round the car but every time I bend down some hairy slobbery mongrell is trying to lick my face or hump me. Strange bearded chaps look on. All thats missing is the banjo player.

However, everyone is dead nice and the car seems OK, although its a genuine barn stored car so its 3" deep in straw.

So I decide to buy it.

its now 4:15 or so and I need to get it txed for the drive home really. So we run in to Exeter to the main Post Office which is the only one still open. After having the full "you baint be frum rooond deez paaaartz" conversation with the lady in the post office its now 5:15 and I have a car and a tax disc. Woo hoo.

Call Em, say "I'm setting off now, its about 4 hours run so I'll meet you in the pub about 10"

She says fine, she's going in with a mate of hers whos staying over with us that weekend so thats all good.

So I then have to run the vendor home, pick up some spares, deal with the mad dogs in the yard again. Sheet on a steek meester its nearly 6. I best get going!

Well, the problem is that if I have the roof up on this car I can't see out of the rear or rear/side windows. So I drive along with the top down. Unfortunately this means that the straw flies everywhere and I can hardly see where I'm going.

The fuel gauge reads a quarter so I think "I'll stop and get fuel and vacuum out the car"

So I go to the pump and SPLOOOOSH petrol all down my leg. The fuel filler pipe is knackered. So Imanage to get the nozzle into the tank from kinda under the wheel arch and put what seems like 2/3 of a tank in that way.

Then I try vacuum out the car. I get about 1/5 of the way before the vacuum burns out.

Nob.

So I put the roof up, try clean the screens but it turns out they have gone opaque not just dirty.

So I set off and much to my delight I notice the fuel gauge is still reading 1/4. Its nearly 7 PM and I'm still in Devon.

I follw the directions I was given to find the motorway, down many single track roads and through many picturesque villages. I'm averaging about 20 MPH due to farm traffic and the like.

I text Em saying, its probably going to be more like 11 when I'm up so I'll come straight out by taxi without getting changed and I'll meet them in the club.

Finally I find the motorway, and off I go feeling a degree of relief.

Its getting dark so I put on the lights. Of course the dash illumination is shot. As the fuel gauge is U/S and I have no idea what the car really does to the gallon I decide to stop every 100 miles to add fuel.

But I cannot see the odometer or the speedo so I try to use my cigarette lighter as impromptu illumination, but it blows straight out because of the draft blowing through the car. I did mention the convertible top was torn didn't I?

So I end up trying to read the gauges by the light of the glowing end of my cigarette.

Nice.

I get a way up the motorway and I'm egetting close to Bristol. So I decide to make a stop. I check the gauges with my glowing fag end and notice the temp gauge is rising a fair bit. At least one guage works eh? Oh, did I mention this car had been off the road about 7 - 8 years?

Defo next services we should stop.

So I pull in as as I pull up to the pumps I switch off the engine, theres a "sigh" from under the bonnet and then the whole world disappears in a cloud of steam.

Its 8 pm and I'm calling the AA.

Text Em, running late, probably see you around midnight.

A young girl, maybe ages 7 or 8 walks over to the car to see what the great steaming white thing is and asks me "Why is your car doing that then Mister?" and her mother shrieks "GET AWAY FROM THERE" like its a bomb, comes grabs the kid about pulling her arm out and bundles her into some silver MPV thing.

Having told the AA I am in a 37 year old yank car which has just junked all the coolant I rather hoped they'd send a truck for to carry me a-home. However they send a mechanic from a local garage in a tatty Maestro van instead. Its 9 o'clock before he's with me and he (incorrectly) diagnoses the fault as being a faulty switch on the electric fan. This fixed, the fan spins. So I do my "arm up the wheelarch" refuling trick and set off.

Now my arm is soaked in petrol so I don't like too much to light a cigarette.

After about 30 or 40 miles maybe I'm checking the temp gauge on a regular basis and its still heading skywards. Balls.

I decide, maybe I shoudl pull off at the next services and then "wallop" all the lights go out.

I'm pegging up the motorway in the dark with no lights on.

So I pull up on the hard shoulder, actually on this motorway there is no hard shoulder, so I try get up on the grass.

Phone AA. Say, car broke down again. No lights, no hard shoulder. They say "put your hazards on" and I say "I have no lights at all - please treat me as a priority" They say they will send a truck. Hooray.

I text Em, say "been delayed again, will meet you guys out of club in my (other) car and drive you home 'bout 2 OK"

Sitting there I notice one of those overhead gantry signs come on says "ROADWORKS. MOTORWAY CLOSED AHEAD 11 PM - 7 AM"


Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

anyway its about 10:30 when the truck turns up. Its another local garage one not an AA truck.

He loads the car without incident and then I say, "right Nottingham then. " and he says "no, I just drop you at the next junction" Eh? You only have breakdown not relay cover. Erm, I have relay cover. So we then have to have anouther 15 minutes of funking about while he contacts the AA to find out if I have breakdown or Relay.

Having decioded I have relay and having been instructed to take me home we set off.

He says "I'm going to have to fill up with diesel I'm only on for local runs"

So we come off the Motorway (its now closed) and we drive about for a bit looking for an all-night petrol station which will refuel a HGV.

The driver only does local drops, doesn't know the area, doesn't have a map. So we have to make our way round Birmingham at 1 am without the aid of any directions, diversion signs or either of us knowing where we are going.

I got home at 3:15 am and had to unload the car in the street then. Luckily Em was suitably intoxicated so she and her friend just came out into the street and laughed at me while I did it.

I got to bed a little before 4 am, stinking of petrol and covered in straw.

This is the car



here it is in the farm yard.



turns out the overheating was nothing more than a jammed thermostat.

The lights were both sealed beams had failed at the same time. Implausiable but thats what it was.

I got no carp off Em over that. She decided I'd suffered enough.

I never "bonded" with it after that. You know how it is. Ideally that car should have ben perfect, a mid sized American RHD daily driver but I just never got on with it and sold it on after about a year or so. I sorted the fuel filler issue, the lights, etc. but never really got "into" the car.

I actually swapped it with a mate for the Oldsmobile. He had some further problems with it (including another fuel leak IIRC) and sold it on to some lad who came all the way from Germany to buy it.

I'd love to say that was an isolated example

But I cannot.

thats a cool story. If youre into Tatras do you knwo Dave Richards? He is/was invoved in the Tatra club in the late 90s / early 00s. And old chum of mine from Vauxhall days.

if you see him, say Alistair from the VX4/90 club as was says hi.