The rise and fall of a used car lot

After sharing a car for the first two years here in Bavaria, Molly and I decided to add another vehicle to the fleet last year: a Citroen Berlingo we called Steffie. (We named her after the previous owner, who cried as she signed over the title like she was giving up her firstborn.)

Alarms should have gone off when we first entertained the idea of buying a French car.

We live in the land that produces BMW, Mercedes and Porsche, is known for precision and efficiency, and created the Autobahn. It’s like moving to Italy and only drinking beer. You could do it, but why would you want to?

Looking back, even saying the words “French” and “engineering” together sounds awkward. Yet we felt like we had the inside track– like we could beat the odds.

So, against our better judgment, we rolled the dice on a French car. And for a while, Steffie delivered.

A perfect commuting and roadtrip car, she got 33-35 miles to the gallon and rocked a 12-CD changer. Tons of space and headroom, we packed in 5 people and drove 1,700 kilometers for the Women’s World Cup last year without incident – sort of.

However, after a year of driving and several costly trips to the repair shop (in one instance, the clutch went out while we were trying get on base and the gate guards had to help us push her in), we decided it was time for something newer.

Buying a car was easy – in fact, we found two cars that fit the bill within a week of each other. Selling the old ones was a different story.

I thought putting them up for a fair price would move them quickly. I grossly misjudged the used car market.

People emailed and texted me with low-ball offers without even having seen the cars in person.

I listed our 1999 Honda for $1500.

"Would you take $1,000?” asked a guy on the phone. One woman even wrote: “I have a baby and can’t afford much, would you take $800?”

I don’t want to sound heartless, but hell no.

One guy told me to take it off the market – he wanted it and that was that. He test-drove it, loved it and we had an agreement that he’d buy it in two weeks. When I called him the next week, he said “Oh yeah, I forgot to call you – I found something else. I’m usually pretty good about calling people back.”

Right.

Three separate people test drove the Honda and loved it. Each tried to cut me down $200 because their budget was magically $1,300.

I was trying to cut to the chase and people still wanted to play the game.

I should have remembered the age-old used-car maxim: Never list your real asking price; regardless of how low or fair it is, people will always want to bring you down to feel like they’re getting a deal.

With Steffie, it was a different game, and the buyer got more than a deal. We had no choice but to put thousands of dollars into her so she could simply drive off the lot. We sold her for that same amount.

Next time though (hopefully it won’t be anytime soon), we’ll be smarter. We gained wisdom that has cost rappers and R&B stars millions of dollars to learn: Mo’ cars, mo’ problems.

And despite all the work and hoops we had to jump through to free ourselves from having 4 cars, every once in a while we’ll see either the Honda or Steffie around town and smile, happy that our old friends are still truckin’.

Now, as we accelerate into the curves with our 2010 mini clubman, we look back and laugh at the days when we couldn't pass a tractor without endangering our lives.