The car story continues. And I’m learning more things.
Here’s a recap: I sell my new 2012 car lease for a ’93 that breaks down days later, then my wife is given another ’93 by a family member to soon find out it’s on the verge of joining its counterpart to the junk yard. The transmission feels funny. It has no AC. Hence, my pride is floored — all for the name of financial freedom and business. Family and friends are probably nodding their heads, while I try to keep mine up high trusting in the plan. Trusting in God.
Read about it here:
It’s been a long-crazy month. If you open the wallet, check my bank account, and ask me, ”How’s it going?” You’ll probably cry or laugh. More because of how crazy I am for doing this; knowing my financial status. I mean, who in their right mind puts their spouse and one year child through this? No security? No safety? It’s terrible. I know. And you’re probably right. The man who was selling his 2002 car wanted to make a deal. He was offering all sorts of ways to pay for the car — money was not a factor. So, I offered him both’93 cars, an old iPhone 4S I had, partial of the money, and settled payments in either electronics or cash. He gladly accepted. What?! That’s so ghetto. This was caveman-style bartering. Honestly, I was going forth with the deal without having the full money in hand before even concluding to this. Trying to see how far I can push it. I had to believe my own lie. I had to think creatively.
Note: Obviously, this was someone I personally knew and trusted; someone who wouldn’t turn around and screw me over. He himself was a business man. A true street hustler and entrepreneur. I learned a thing or two from him. Ok, I’m not going to lie, I learned a lot.
I happened to spend most of the day with this gentleman and was blown away by his sales swag, powerful skill in persuasion, and ability to make my junk look like treasure. He slightly commented how he was going to make more out of my piece of junk cars than having the entire money up front; and I just stood their in awe (but physically looking uninterested).
Considering my financial position, this was a better option than going to a rinky dink dealer owned by a Watto character (Star Wars reference) looking for $3,000 car that would tie me up with monthly expenses again. I am seriously done with the rat race. My legs hurt.
So, we made the transaction.
It’s not the car I want, but it’s the car I need.
With all of this, I really don’t know what type of person I’m turning in to. All I can say is that I’m not the same guy I used to be. My character is building a harder shell; I can take bigger hits. I’m not proud of it, because I don’t want bigger hits. I don’t like pain.
You know what’s the scary part of all of this? I think my house is next.