First to see won't buy. Your tales of making your excuses and leaving from viewing a car

[motorpunk]

15 hours ago, eddyramrod said:

I've always wanted to be the actual "first to see"

Wasn’t the first to see Adam or Eve?

[artdjones]

About 2002 I went with my brother to look at a Starlet fwd up for €500. It was ok except for needing a small patch on the back of one sill. Then the owner said, "You're not going to believe this but I've already had an offer of €650". He was right, we didn't believe him.

I was driving that way six weeks later, and, you've guessed it , still parked in the same spot.

[Lord Sterling]

Nothing of any excitement here, but I've a couple...

Sometime last year I grabbed myself a couple of £grand and started looking for a Jaguar, this was before I bought the red Jag that eventually got crashed.

I didn't know too much about Jags and although I really wanted an X308, I was open to an X350. I spotted an X350 Jag for in Birmingham on Facebook and sent the seller a message sometime around 1/2am in the morning (as I work nights so am often up at those times)

I wasn't expecting the seller to get back to me so quickly and, he even asked if I wanted to come down immediately to see the car, also after seeing the MoT history, I decided to give it a swerve. I politely declined the offer and blocked him, I mean who goes to see a car with a dodgy MoT history at 2am in the dark of the morning? 

I spotted the car on Facebook again l but being sold by someone completely different in a dodgy part of Birmingham.

More recently, after I crashed my Jaguar and got the payout, I decided to sit on it for a while until I could find something nice. Again, browsing Facebook I spotted what I thought was a nice Y-reg Jaguar XJ8 Sport for seemingly £reasonable. It was a nice colour but looked like it could do with some TLC. It recently had a new MoT and apparently had some work done for this. Seemed like a good car to go for then. 

I chatted with the seller of over messenger and agreed a date to meet.

The seller was down in South Wales so not silly far from me. 

It was the day of the Euro 2024 final England vs Spain match. It was a nice warm day so I set off in the Vectra, I decided to go see the car first and if I didn't like it, I could always make my excuses and go home.

It was a lovely drive down there and back. However, I was about half an hour away when I received a text from the seller "Sorry, I've lost the keys, I can't seem to find them anywhere, and I've had to go l etc...

I texted the seller back stating I was half an hour away and would continue to go see the car whether anyone was there or not. He said it was open and I could look around it.

So eventually I arrive on this dodgy looking industrial estate, I asked some lads looking at some modded cars if they knew the lad selling the Jaguar, one remembered and pointed me to the top of the estate, I found the car and had a look around:

The car was indeed unlocked and I had the best look around I could. All of the metal work seemed OK, especially underneath the car, the rest of the car, especially the interior looked like it needed some TLC which isn't something that put me off too much, but the inconvenience of the seller not turning up etc... didn't leave a great impression, and neither was the battery left on the back seat. However, I really needed to drive the thing to make my final decision. 

I took pics and decided to bimble back home so I could get some sleep and watch the match later on (spoiler; I woke up after the match had finished to utter silence 😅)

The next day the seller text me back saying he'd found the keys and when could I come back down. I said I'd be working so leave it with me. I wasn't overly sure of this but somehow still slightly keen, keeping an open mind, but then when he text me later on to say he'd be going on holiday for 10 days, I decided to leave it.

 

[Bazfr69]

Belfast to Carlow, a roughly six hour round trip to view what looked like a very decent Suzuki Samurai. 
Spent less than five minutes viewing when I saw that the owner had cut a sunroof hole in the back of the roof section as it had been used for shooting.

A run to Dungannon to see a tidy Twin Cam that had vomit all over the floor when I arrived.

Another Twin Cam excursion, Castledawson iirc where the car had an actual hole in the bonnet from an engine fire. (These cars were mightily abused over here before their value went through the roof.

The Auto Trader photographers had a lot to answer for in their day. 
 

All involved a level of incredulity from me that mystified the respective sellers. 

[motorpunk]

Nowadays I’m so picky… if it’s a rough area, someone who uses any bullshit language, something photographed outside a rough-arse looking house, I just don’t bother. Maybe it’s cost me the odd bargain over the years, maybe I’m a snob, but it’s a strategy that works for me.

As a teenager I looked at an MR2 in a shite part of Leicester, seller could barely speak English and the English he did know was “bargain mate” bullshit. Got there. Car had a cracked windscreen and the A pillar wasn’t straight (?!) and the engine was knocking like fuck. “Special price mate. Cash price mate”. Fuck off.

[IronStar]

52 minutes ago, motorpunk said:

Nowadays I’m so picky… if it’s a rough area, someone who uses any bullshit language, something photographed outside a rough-arse looking house, I just don’t bother. Maybe it’s cost me the odd bargain over the years, maybe I’m a snob, but it’s a strategy that works for me.

As a teenager I looked at an MR2 in a shite part of Leicester, seller could barely speak English and the English he did know was “bargain mate” bullshit. Got there. Car had a cracked windscreen and the A pillar wasn’t straight (?!) and the engine was knocking like fuck. “Special price mate. Cash price mate”. Fuck off.

Probably not worth it with the prices of cars in the UK, but my experience is that the best bargains are almost always in those places. Especially if we’re talking about rare but undesirable to sane people cars, these invariably end up in those places. Always worse than described, but priced to sell asap as owner needs money now. They always need a good clean, smell funky, and oil change is way overdue though.

If mystical Talbot Tagora ever spawns for sale in the UK, it will 100% be parked in a very rough industrial estate in the arse end of nowhere, being sold by incredibly dodgy bloke.

[grogee]

This story isn't so much a dodgy seller story as 'WTF am I doing here?' story. 

I went to look at a Fiat Marea with no MoT in Brum somewhere, terraced house, car is outside and obviously hasn't moved much. 

Came inside and made small talk. The woman was furiously frying some food and smoking a fag at the same time. Bloke had a limp and told a story about how it had happened, which took about 45 minutes. 

Dropped some heavy hints about how I'd like to look at the car and was informed 'if I don't get £600 for it, I'll just keep it'. 

He faffed about with a charger on the battery for a while and it eventually fired up, it sounded alright but it was obviously only worth scrap value with god knows how many things needing fixing. 

Luckily I had an epiphany before handing over any money. "What the fuck are you doing here? You've got two other cars. You don't need another project. It'll cost money to transport. My wife will be furious. Even if you get it into A1 condition, it's still a Fiat Marea that nobody wants." 

Made my excuses and left. Agency is a dangerous thing sometimes. 

Edit: the 'wife being furious' problem has now fixed itself. 

[Eyersey1234]

A couple that I've remembered from 2008. We were looking for a Fiesta or similar for my sister to learn to drive in and saw one advertised that I rang up about, arranged to go and view it after work the next day. Got a call the day of the viewing to say it was sold but he had a Peugeot 106 did we want to see that? The car itself seemed OK on viewing but I got the feeling the Fiesta had never existed and I didn't trust the guy, so we walked. 

A few days later we went to look at a Fiesta at a cheap car place a few miles from us, no longer trading. The car seemed OK buy we were met with loads of excuses as to why we couldn't test drive it, so again we walked. 

[bramz7]

The last time I didn't buy a car was a few weeks ago, but not in my control.

Spotted a very fairly priced Stilo 2.4, manual, piano roof, one owner, tiny mileage, £1500. Wow, a great price. I arrange to view it, which turns into a weirdly protracted exchange as the seller says he has to plan it around his treatment, which of course is absolutely fair. He won't take a deposit. Ok, fine. 

I arrange a time to view it. He doesn't give me his house number until I'm actually on his road. Ok that's fine. 

Finally see the car. It's a bit dirty but it's a good one. At no point am I allowed to sit in it, touch it or drive it as he's stuck it on SORN.

There is an issue with warning lights cycling when the car is started, but for the money it's worth a go if it turns out to be what I think it is.

Yeah I'll take it, can I take it today?

He gets visibly uncomfortable with this, so I say there isn't a rush, I can get it whenever suits him.

Is bank transfer ok? Yes sure, etc etc paperwork

Would you be offering more than asking price?

No.

Oh it's just it was for sale for more and I've had interest in it.

(So much interest he's reduced the asking price)

Okay, well if someone offers you more, take it. 

I'll be in touch if the person viewing it on Sunday doesn't want it.

 

About 6 days later he tells me someone is promising they'll pay £3500 for it. Nuts. And they've not seen it yet. 

And the guys taxed it again! What the...?!??

 

I don't even know if it's for sale, really. Was he just showing off his car to me? 

My offer still stands but I don't even know what is going on. I suspect he's trying to get me to offer more, which I'm not. 

[big_al_granvia]

went to look at a v70 in a backstreet dealer, salesman dodgy from the start giving it i only sell quality sound motors. thing was manky but had a look round then went to pop the bonnet, wtf are you doing says the bloke. looks under and both strut towers have rotted out. guy was going ape at me, i towered above him and was close to giving him a glasgow kiss. held temper and walked. reported him to trading standards 

[sierraman]

10 hours ago, motorpunk said:

Nowadays I’m so picky… if it’s a rough area, someone who uses any bullshit language, something photographed outside a rough-arse looking house, I just don’t bother. Maybe it’s cost me the odd bargain over the years, maybe I’m a snob, but it’s a strategy that works for me.

As a teenager I looked at an MR2 in a shite part of Leicester, seller could barely speak English and the English he did know was “bargain mate” bullshit. Got there. Car had a cracked windscreen and the A pillar wasn’t straight (?!) and the engine was knocking like fuck. “Special price mate. Cash price mate”. Fuck off.

I agree, if it’s in any way irritated me, so AI description, it’s in a shitty place, got undesirables hanging about in the background I swerve it. 

[Bren]

6 minutes ago, sierraman said:

I agree, if it’s in any way irritated me, so AI description, it’s in a shitty place, got undesirables hanging about in the background I swerve it. 

I went to see a xantia. It was being sold by somebody from a very expensive new build in Widnes which made me hopeful.

It was fucked. Seats worn through. Paint missing from leading edge of doors. And it wouldn't even start becausd the battery was as flat as a witches tit.

I didn't even have to make an excuse. Guy was obviously struggling with the mortgage and needed another revenue stream. A fucked xantia was the wrong one though.

[IronStar]

3 hours ago, bramz7 said:

The last time I didn't buy a car was a few weeks ago, but not in my control.

Spotted a very fairly priced Stilo 2.4, manual, piano roof, one owner, tiny mileage, £1500. Wow, a great price. I arrange to view it, which turns into a weirdly protracted exchange as the seller says he has to plan it around his treatment, which of course is absolutely fair. He won't take a deposit. Ok, fine. 

I arrange a time to view it. He doesn't give me his house number until I'm actually on his road. Ok that's fine. 

Finally see the car. It's a bit dirty but it's a good one. At no point am I allowed to sit in it, touch it or drive it as he's stuck it on SORN.

There is an issue with warning lights cycling when the car is started, but for the money it's worth a go if it turns out to be what I think it is.

Yeah I'll take it, can I take it today?

He gets visibly uncomfortable with this, so I say there isn't a rush, I can get it whenever suits him.

Is bank transfer ok? Yes sure, etc etc paperwork

Would you be offering more than asking price?

No.

Oh it's just it was for sale for more and I've had interest in it.

(So much interest he's reduced the asking price)

Okay, well if someone offers you more, take it. 

I'll be in touch if the person viewing it on Sunday doesn't want it.

 

About 6 days later he tells me someone is promising they'll pay £3500 for it. Nuts. And they've not seen it yet. 

And the guys taxed it again! What the...?!??

 

I don't even know if it's for sale, really. Was he just showing off his car to me? 

My offer still stands but I don't even know what is going on. I suspect he's trying to get me to offer more, which I'm not. 

Is Stilo 2.4 significantly better steer than a normal one? I generally love Italian cars and highly rate the previous gen to it - Bravo/Brava/Marea/Marengo, but I drove normal Stilo a few times and I’m genuinely baffled how bad it was. Not sure how did they manage to take such a huge leap backwards in a single generation. It was multiple cars, not a single bad one.  

Take that as a sign to keep the hot Marea while you’re ahead. 

[bramz7]

I've owned three Stilos and found them pretty good, albeit equipped with some pretty terrible seats. I think the 'provenance' helps with this one. 

I did walk away from another Stilo which had such a bad wheel bearing a front wheel felt like it was about to fall off. And the test drive permitted was down a 100m road. Great. 

[IronStar]

4 minutes ago, bramz7 said:

I've owned three Stilos and found them pretty good, albeit equipped with some pretty terrible seats. I think the 'provenance' helps with this one. 

I did walk away from another Stilo which had such a bad wheel bearing a front wheel felt like it was about to fall off. And the test drive permitted was down a 100m road. Great. 

I found suspension too soft, steering overassisted, generally a terrible place to be and drive. All plagued with seemingly random electrical gremlins as well. Maybe I’m too used to different things?

[Lord Sterling]

On a slight opposite note, I was selling a 1994 Rover 820 SE;

This was back in the bad old days when I was trade-plating and still married. The car was owned by an old boy who'd passed away, I had spoken to him several years earlier about his car and took pics with whatever Mk2 800 I was driving at the time.

Anyway, I had become its owner and despite wanting to keep it in my collection, the circumstances around me was forcing me to sell it. I had a prospective buyer turn up, a jolly lady who liked her Rovers and her somewhat smaller, quieter, more withdrawn husband and probably her brother-in-law who seemed to be a bit 'Jack-the-laddish'. They looked over the car, liked it etc... we agreed a price so long as the car had a fresh MoT, unfortunately, a few days later on the way to the MoT centre the car broke down, it was also Eid day and I wanted to go and celebrate and see some friends. I let the interest led party know what had happened (no money had been exchanged at this point) but they never got back in contact.

The garage I wanted to use was also "usefully" closed, the only place I could get it towed to was to a bloke called 'Steve' directly related to the Tolkein family. Steve was an interesting character and a fucking annoying bloke. He loved British tat and was a SERIAL hoarder, and sadly for me, he was the only person I knew who was open and who I thought knew a thing or two about Rovers as he bought and sold them. All he did to my Rover was allegedly throw a parts cannon at it "fitting many new parts", yet it never actually resolving the issue.

In the end, because of my poor circumstances at the time, I was forced to sell it quickly, I was off to Turkey to see wife and needed spending money. I sold it on eBay to a local-ish bloke who came to pick it up in his yellow Mercedes 204D tow truck. 

Steve was livid that I was selling it to someone else other than him and started stomping like a big baby in the background as I met the buyer, myself and the buyer just looked at each other and rolled our eyes as Steve was bitching in the background like the entitled shit he was.

The bloke left happily with his purchase and I told Steve to fuck off.

[Matty]

2 hours ago, bramz7 said:

I've owned three Stilos and found them pretty good, albeit equipped with some pretty terrible seats. I think the 'provenance' helps with this one. 

I did walk away from another Stilo which had such a bad wheel bearing a front wheel felt like it was about to fall off. And the test drive permitted was down a 100m road. Great. 

I've read the thread and I agree you should 100% buy it. But at the price advertised and not a penny more.

[Datsuncog]

I've told it before, but I'll tell it again: this utter shed, back in 2011.

I think it appeared on Gumtree -  a 1993 Montego Clubman 2.0 Diesel Estate, up in Randalstown - only about 30 miles away.

I was in need of an estate car in a hurry, ideally one with a towbar and roof rails,  as I was in the middle of a moderately involved house renovation project, and my XM estate had failed its MOT fairly catastrophically on a series of bodges perpetrated by a previous owner. This piece of warmed-over 1980s chod seemed to fit the bill alright.

I think £500 was the asking price on the Montego - with no current MOT, but it was booked in for one in the next few days (this may have been at one of the many times when the government-run MOT testing centres in NI were experiencing a massive backlog, and cars were being granted temporary exemption certificates because they couldn't get a test date for 12 weeks or whatever).

The seller (a fella going by the slightly unusual name of Bag, if memory serves) was very nice but quite hard to pin down. It seemed he worked erratic hours, and the car was being stored in a locked haulage compound to which he didn't always have access. It took quite a few days of negotiation to agree a time to view, during which time the MOT was failed on a worn balljoint, but I was assured it'd be replaced and re-tested before it was sold.

We went up in the ever-faithful Yaris and met with Bag outside the yard, which was in quite a rural location, down a long laneway. His mate was coming down with the keys shortly, and while waiting we chatted about the various old nails we'd owned in the past. He had a Mk1 Golf, and seemed to do a bit of buying and selling.

Then Matey-boy showed up, after about half an hour of us standing around. I immediately decided that I did not much care for Matey.

The car was... odd. There was just a strong vibe off it of something not being quite right, which hadn't come over in the photos but strongly did so in the metal. There was plenty of appallingly badly touched-up surface rust, but nothing too bad. It looked reasonably okay underneath. The interior was scruffy, but not utterly ruined. It had been crashed at some point but the repairs to the front panel looked reasonable, though the bonnet was a bit frilly. It looked like a total shed, and I had no doubt the neighbours would despise it, but then most of my cars fall into this category anyway.

Problem was, while Bag just stood back and let me have a poke around, like any decent seller, Matey seemed determined to do all he could to distract me and interrupt me, by sticking right at my elbow and making constant declarations about what a sound car it was, how reliable it was, how hard they were to find in this condition now, etc etc. Despite his overbearing chumminess, I also got the impression that his demeanour could shift quite rapidly; a bit like Robert Carlyle's portrayal of Francis Begbie in the Trainspotting films. A bit like that. He even had the same wee 'tache. I didn't feel all that comfortable.

One early problem arising was the boot. This car had been spec'd as a seven-seater, and so had a folding jump seat built into the boot floor. Except it wouldn't fold down, for some reason, and despite much effort where we could get it to partially go down, none of us could get it to actually go flat. And then we couldn't get the seats back up again. This wasn't ideal for a car I needed as a load-lugger for kitchen and bathroom componentry. But my concerns were batted away by Matey; it was fine, no problem, easy to fix.

Just to try to find a definite reason to reject the car, I took it out for a drive. I knew the old Perkins lump was not going to match the late XM's 2.5 litre turbodiesel powerplant for power or smoothness, but it on starting it felt like a bloody Nuffield tractor running on three cylinders. The vibration was eyeball-shaking. Once I got it out on the road, I was somewhat shocked to realise that the driving experience could be summed up as follows: everything that should be tight was loose, while everything that should be loose was tight.

The pedals were all unbelievably stiff, and squeaked as they resisted all human efforts to move them. The steering wheel, meanwhile, had about ten inches of slack in it while the gearstick seemed to be totally unattached to anything other than the rubber gaiter, so much play did I encounter during operation. The hand controls and window winders all felt like they were going come away at any moment, while the clutch snatched and grabbed like an ill-mannered orangutan being offered a bag of buns.

But maybe... maybe this is just the way Montegos are? I knew that by '93 they were hideously dated cars that only really existed to threaten underachieving sales reps with. But could they really be this bad, even with 160k on the clock...?

Regardless, it was an absolutely horrible thing to drive. Worse even than the LDV Pilot minibus with shot suspension components I once had to steer as part of my job. I only took the Montego to the end of the road, so little enjoyment was I deriving from the experience - then spent a pleasant* and relaxing* few minutes at a crossroads trying to find reverse to complete a three point turn, while holding up an increasingly irate funeral cortege. As you do.

 

I returned to the yard with ill-concealed gratitude, and made a few faint and non-committal noises while Matey expressed flabbergasted disbelief that I hadn't been so overcome at the superlative driving experience that I'd gone on an impromptu round-Ireland jaunt. I continued to press aimlessly at the various dash buttons while trying to formulate a plan to extricate myself from the increasingly weird situation (MrsDC had wisely retreated to the Yaris at this point).

I hauled myself from the (baggy, saggy) driver's seat and had another thoughtful circuit of the car, then stopped as I noticed the small pool of water spreading from under the front n/s wheel. Ah. This was an interesting development.

I opened the bonnet again, to further enjoy* the diesel engine clattering away like a thousand chain-mail clad warriors having a swordfight in a tambourine factory. The water seemed to be coming from... the area beneath the windscreen washer fluid tank. I looked closer. There was a pipe coming out from the tank, but it was swinging loosely in the breeze about 18" down. How odd.

Trying to ignore Matey's indefatigable rhapsodising about this unlovely heap of old wank (by this stage, Bag had wandered over to a corner of the yard and was picking listlessly at a rusty LT150 van), I stuck my head back into the cabin and flicked at a few buttons. It transpired that pressing the rear wash/wipe button activated the 'incontinent cocker spaniel' function. Perplexed, I ducked round to the back of the car... to find that there was no rear washer or wiper. At least - not now.

It's hard to remember what things were like back in the pre-smartphone era, and no doubt younger folk will titter, but this was the point at which I pulled out a black-and-white printout of the Gumtree advert and squinted at the grainy greyscale photos: because, as far as I could tell, the car in the photo - the same car, depicted in the same yard - DID have a rear wiper fitted. The car before me now had a rubber plug, sealed with what looked like black mastic, over the hole where the wiper spindle should have been.

Bag and Matey were hovering close at hand.

"Um... just looking here, what happened to the rear wiper?"

"What? Nothing. There isn't one."

Matey folded his arms. Bag looked at the ground and said nothing.

"Well, it looks like there's one in the ad photo here. And there's a switch for the rear wiper on the dashboard."

Matey swiped the printout from my hand and squinted at it with a high degree of suspicion.

"No... no, it LOOKS like one, but it's just, like a crease or something..."

"It's just, there's a pipe coming out from the washer reservoir that looks like it's been cut - hence the water whenever the button's pushed..." I indicated the spreading pool on the dusty ground.

"What? No... no no no. Definitely not."

There was a further uncomfortable silence. The printout was not great quality, but I knew there had been a wiper when I'd looked at the photos on my PC (and you can see them, too - they're the same pics posted above). Why the hell would they lie about it? Why the hell had they removed it, anyway? What the hell else had they done?

I should have been firmer and just said 'Well, thanks for your time gents, the car's not for me but best of luck with the re-test and sale.' That would have let us all leave with a modicum of dignity, however ill-deserved.

But oh no. I felt I'd spent too long now faffing and poking to just do that.

I knew that I wasn't a timewaster; I mean, I had the full £500 asking price tucked away in my pocket. Obviously I'd hoped to chisel a bit off, but I'd arrived there with cash in hand fully intending to at least leave a deposit if the Montego seemed in any way capable of functioning as a mode of transport. I think I was surprised, more than anything, that I'd finally encountered a car that didn't meet even my unbelievably lax standards. Even though I was car-less with the XM beyond bodging, I was by now reasonably certain I didn't want this - at any price.

So of course, rather than just playing it straight, I instead pitched a lowball offer that I knew they could only refuse.

What a dick move.

"Mumble mumble mumble, £200."

Silence.

FFS.

Well, Matey didn't take kindly to this. Cue much waving of arms, gnashing of teeth, exhortations to the heavens that his little ones would have to forgo shoes and nourishment because of my flinty-hearted callousness, and they'd all be in the poorhouse by the end of the week. You've seen The Life of Brian, right? The Beard Vendor. That bit.

Bag still kept quiet.

More silence. Birds twittered in the adjacent derelict DAF cabs. Matey scratched at his little moustache.

"Ok then, you can have it for £400."

Double FFS.

Obviously, the next move was for me to bleat £300, then it would be checkmate and shake-hands at £350. Done deal.

But the thing was...

I.

Didn't.

Want.

It.

At all.

Not for £350.

Not even for £3.50.

I'm still not quite sure how I made it out of the yard. I know I didn't make it out without looking like a massive timewasting ballbag, that's for sure. I think I just gabbled a bit, smiled a lot, made expansive arm gestures, then sprinted for the safety of the Yaris. The kind of skills I last employed upon being given the hard-sell treatment by flinty-eyed groups of lads pushing knock-off Calvin Klein jeans around Turkish holiday resorts.

 

A week later, Bag rang me to say I could have it for £300, if I wanted it. The balljoint was now replaced and it had the MOT retest booked.

I should have come clean there and then, safely on the other end of the phone (rather than in Randalstown's own version of the Thunderdome) and explained that the car just seemed a bit shonky; it drove like a bag of bolts; the disappearing components worried me and I was really discomfited by the presence of Matey. I simply didn't want it, even for free.

But instead, I lied like a bastard and expressed much sads and regrets that I had just bought a car, wow, what bad timing, and while I would love to own something as wonderful as the Montego, I just couldn't see it working out - but seriously, best of luck, it's a great car, I'm sure someone will snap it up soon...

Basically, it's not you - it's me.

But it absolutely was them - and the car. I wish, for my own peace of mind, I'd been able to say that. But then again, I think that deep down, Bag knew the score full well. God only knows what the dynamic was there between him and Matey-boy.

A week or so later, I bought a very tired Volvo 240 wagon for £360 which employed some creative use of duct tape, but that's a whole n'uther story.

TL;DR - when pieces of car are clearly visible in the ad pics but have gone missing by the time you view it, and the vendor hotly denies everything despite photographic evidence, just leave.

[warren t claim]

When I was a fiver a night auction driver we had one total psycho hard looking bloke who'd bid on any old piece of shit. He had a reputation of threatening anyone who turned up to view whatever car he had for sale meaning the buyer would hand over money for the fucked Maxi to avoid a beating.

[somewhatfoolish]

2 hours ago, Datsuncog said:

The pedals were all unbelievably stiff, and squeaked as they resisted all human efforts to move them. The steering wheel, meanwhile, had about ten inches of slack in it while the gearstick seemed to be totally unattached to anything other than the rubber gaiter, so much play did I encounter during operation. The hand controls and window winders all felt like they were going come away at any moment, while the clutch snatched and grabbed like an ill-mannered orangutan being offered a bag of buns.

But maybe... maybe this is just the way Montegos are? I knew that by '93 they were hideously dated cars that only really existed to threaten underachieving sales reps with. But could they really be this bad, even with 160k on the clock...?

It isn't, even quite baggy ones steer reasonably well on their wobble struts although the gearshift isn't the greatest even when fresh. 

[Niffleman]

About six months ago I needed a four wheel drive due to a house move to a rural area near Perth.  At the time I was living on the West cost of Scotland.  I found a 4wd Qashqai advertised in Trongate and went to have a look.  The placed turned out to be a bomb site garage but undeterred I saw the car and went to make myself known to the seller.  The car seemed OK and I took a quick test drive, which revealed no problems.  Being in Scotland  I thought I had better look underneath for rust as things go a bit crisply up here.  

It was then I began to get a bit confused as I couldn't see a propshaft.  How can it be 4wd with no propshaft?  I tapped the VIN into an online checker which confirmed it was a 2wd car.  I approached the seller, a large and slightly angry man, and told him he was mis-advertising the car.  I myself was slightly cross as I never would've bothered with the car if I had known it was 2wd.  He then simply said, "Leave now" as three other large and angry men appeared.  I did.

[sierraman]

Rough people and rough cars go hand in hand. You might save £8.75 but if they’ve no money it’ll be on it arse. 

[rainagain]

Years ago I had a Smart for Four as a hire car and found it the automotive equivalent of a shrug. It’s like the car version of a reluctant teenager who’s been dragged to a family gathering, it’s there but not really interested in doing anything. I was looking for a car for a family member and saw one advertised quite cheap. This one was advertised as having four new tyres, full service history, etc. I turned up at the small semi-detached house to be met by the seller who informed me he taught Forex trading online and showed me his Bentley parked round the back with a number plate that sort of spelt Forex if you had recently fallen down some stairs and squinted a bit. I’m assuming he stands in front of this Bentley on Facebook and talks about all the free cash he has and how you can have it too if you pay for his course. He told me he’d had the Smart car a number of years, I’d already checked online before I left home and found it had a change of keeper in the last month. I’m assuming he’d bought it cheap to try and flip it.

I tried my best to ignore him talking about Forex and looked round the car, the four brand new tyres turned out to be random part worns dipped in tyre shine. One was so old it was cracking all round and didn’t even have a date code on it. I took it for a drive and pointed out the exhaust was quite raspy, “oh that’s the new system I had just had fitted bedding in”. I stopped and stuck my head underneath and found the back box had rotted off and was dangling on its hangers.

The gear change was fine moving left and right but really stuff going forwards and backwards, he assured me he had owned lots of these and they were all like this. When I got back to his I found one of the rear plastic arches had a massive crack in it and someone had cut a piece of sticky carbon fibre to cover it and then done the same on the other side to try and hide it. I’d had enough of this point so tried to walk away, he then started talking about some stables he owned that were apparently near where I live but he didn’t seem to know on what road. He said that people who didn’t do well on his Forex course ended up having to work weekends there. As this point I pretended my phone was ringing and said I’d be in touch, managing to swerve both the car and a course in poo shovelling

[cobblers]

When I was 16, my mate a couple of years older had a Renault 5 gtx - they're the 1.7 volvo engine "warm" hatch. He had big ideas about putting the 1.7 turbo engine in out of a volvo 480, and was always on the lookout in the Ad-mag for one breaking or something.

One came up for sale as a full car, but with a "bit of a scrape down the passenger side". It was on a council estate in Stocksbridge. Got there one dark thursday night, and this *massive* thug of a bloke showed us the car on his drive. He'd "driven it while pissed up trying to knock a man off a motorbike who owed him £500" We awkwardly laughed.

The car wasn't actually that badly damaged - a wing and a touch up on the door would have fixed it. My mate had nowhere to actually break the thing, so he managed to sweet talk this massive angry man into letting us strip it on his drive over a weekend (it was a fucking bombsite anyway) if he paid the asking price of about £400?  

Saturday morning we turned up with a boot full of tools and started pulling this volvo to bits. All the front end ripped off, needlessly brutal, teenage lad bravado stuff. "Don't need this" SMASH! "Don't need that" SMASH! just annihilating stuff with claw hammers etc. Big angry bloke sees us out of his kitchen window acting like twats and comes over to tell us to stop fucking about, without actually saying anything.

About 3 hours in we weren't a million miles off getting the engine out, when he sent me underneath to cut through the driveshafts with a grinder and one of those 1/4" thick "cutting" discs that were all we seemed to have back then.

While I was under there I was looking at the exhaust, getting ready to cut that next. I saw a downpipe, and followed it up to the exhaust manifold. No turbo in sight....

"Mate, It's not a fucking turbo!!!!!"

"What? they're all turbo aren't they??"

"This one fucking isn't!!!" 

He'd just assumed all volvo 480s were turbos, we'd never even checked!!!

Loads of hushed words exchanged, then realising the owner is about 15 foot away from us,  we end up texting each other instead. My mate decides he doesn't want another non-turbo engine, but by this point we've basically annihilated a massive angry blokes car. Matey texts me "Pack all the tools into the box but keep pretending you're working. I'll say I'm going to get some dinner then I'll ring you after about ten minutes and pick you up"

Bit by bit I put my tools into my tool box, but keep a half inch ratchet in my hand and keep making ratcheting and banging noises. My mate is a cocky bastard, so he goes and has a word with the car owner and asks if he wants some chips fetching!!!! then walks up the street to where the car is parked and drives off, flat out, very noisily like usual. I'm there on my own, shitting myself now. I wait 5 minutes and put the ratchet in the toolbox and then just make some occasional banging noises etc, til my phone rings. "I'll be there in a minute".

I hear his fucking racket of a car come tear arsing down the street and do a full on screeching emergency stop at the top of the drive. What a wanker! He's fucking pissing himself, safe in his car and I'm running as fast as I can up this mega steep drive with what feels like 45kg of toolbox in my hands. As I get to the car I have to put the box down to open the door, and it's fucking locked!! He'd got one of them "full closure" alarms that lock the doors when you have the engine running. Still pissing himself he reaches over to open the door, I dive in the car, drag the toolbox in after me while this massive bloke is now up and out of the house stomping up the drive! Masses of wheelspin, we shoot off and pelt it home. I'm still shitting myself and feeling quite bad for this blokes car we just destroyed, but my mate finds it hilarious, til we get home.

"Where's the grinder?" He asks.

"I though you'd put it in the car?" I said. "No, I left it behind the bush down the side of the house, I texted you to grab it".

I'd not noticed this text (and TBH probably couldn't have been able to carry it anyway). It was his dads angle grinder, and his dad was just as terrifying as the bloke who's car we'd just smashed to bits for no reason. So we had to drive back later that night to retrieve the grinder under the cover of darkness.  I was convinced the bloke had noticed it and would be sat waiting for us to return with a fucking sword or something, so I flat out refused to go anywhere near the place.  It was decided I'd ring the bloke off a withheld number and put a heavily scottish accent on asking loads questions about the car to distract him while my mate went down the drive for his grinder. Which wasn't there anymore.

 

[Pieman]

I think the thing we can learn from this thread is: don't buy a car in Scotland or Birmingham.

[New POD]

2 minutes ago, Pieman said:

I think the thing we can learn from this thread is: don't buy a car in Scotland or Birmingham.

Add in Runcorn and Wigan. 

[Dan302]

Went to look at an 08 plate fiesta at a dealer a few years ago, looked great in the photos which were all taken from one side.......as there's was a bloody great rust hole in front of the rear arch on the other side.......just needs a plate mate. Funny it wasn't mentioned in the advert.

Then the dealer started ranting about alsorts so me and dad mate a hasty exit.

[Noel Tidybeard]

9 hours ago, somewhatfoolish said:

It isn't, even quite baggy ones steer reasonably well on their wobble struts although the gearshift isn't the greatest even when fresh. 

not true my '89 1.6 bASe had a gearbag so slick and precise you wouldn't have believed it had done 134,000 miles

[Lankytim]

6 hours ago, cobblers said:

When I was 16, my mate a couple of years older had a Renault 5 gtx - they're the 1.7 volvo engine "warm" hatch. He had big ideas about putting the 1.7 turbo engine in out of a volvo 480, and was always on the lookout in the Ad-mag for one breaking or something.

One came up for sale as a full car, but with a "bit of a scrape down the passenger side". It was on a council estate in Stocksbridge. Got there one dark thursday night, and this *massive* thug of a bloke showed us the car on his drive. He'd "driven it while pissed up trying to knock a man off a motorbike who owed him £500" We awkwardly laughed.

The car wasn't actually that badly damaged - a wing and a touch up on the door would have fixed it. My mate had nowhere to actually break the thing, so he managed to sweet talk this massive angry man into letting us strip it on his drive over a weekend (it was a fucking bombsite anyway) if he paid the asking price of about £400?  

Saturday morning we turned up with a boot full of tools and started pulling this volvo to bits. All the front end ripped off, needlessly brutal, teenage lad bravado stuff. "Don't need this" SMASH! "Don't need that" SMASH! just annihilating stuff with claw hammers etc. Big angry bloke sees us out of his kitchen window acting like twats and comes over to tell us to stop fucking about, without actually saying anything.

About 3 hours in we weren't a million miles off getting the engine out, when he sent me underneath to cut through the driveshafts with a grinder and one of those 1/4" thick "cutting" discs that were all we seemed to have back then.

While I was under there I was looking at the exhaust, getting ready to cut that next. I saw a downpipe, and followed it up to the exhaust manifold. No turbo in sight....

"Mate, It's not a fucking turbo!!!!!"

"What? they're all turbo aren't they??"

"This one fucking isn't!!!" 

He'd just assumed all volvo 480s were turbos, we'd never even checked!!!

Loads of hushed words exchanged, then realising the owner is about 15 foot away from us,  we end up texting each other instead. My mate decides he doesn't want another non-turbo engine, but by this point we've basically annihilated a massive angry blokes car. Matey texts me "Pack all the tools into the box but keep pretending you're working. I'll say I'm going to get some dinner then I'll ring you after about ten minutes and pick you up"

Bit by bit I put my tools into my tool box, but keep a half inch ratchet in my hand and keep making ratcheting and banging noises. My mate is a cocky bastard, so he goes and has a word with the car owner and asks if he wants some chips fetching!!!! then walks up the street to where the car is parked and drives off, flat out, very noisily like usual. I'm there on my own, shitting myself now. I wait 5 minutes and put the ratchet in the toolbox and then just make some occasional banging noises etc, til my phone rings. "I'll be there in a minute".

I hear his fucking racket of a car come tear arsing down the street and do a full on screeching emergency stop at the top of the drive. What a wanker! He's fucking pissing himself, safe in his car and I'm running as fast as I can up this mega steep drive with what feels like 45kg of toolbox in my hands. As I get to the car I have to put the box down to open the door, and it's fucking locked!! He'd got one of them "full closure" alarms that lock the doors when you have the engine running. Still pissing himself he reaches over to open the door, I dive in the car, drag the toolbox in after me while this massive bloke is now up and out of the house stomping up the drive! Masses of wheelspin, we shoot off and pelt it home. I'm still shitting myself and feeling quite bad for this blokes car we just destroyed, but my mate finds it hilarious, til we get home.

"Where's the grinder?" He asks.

"I though you'd put it in the car?" I said. "No, I left it behind the bush down the side of the house, I texted you to grab it".

I'd not noticed this text (and TBH probably couldn't have been able to carry it anyway). It was his dads angle grinder, and his dad was just as terrifying as the bloke who's car we'd just smashed to bits for no reason. So we had to drive back later that night to retrieve the grinder under the cover of darkness.  I was convinced the bloke had noticed it and would be sat waiting for us to return with a fucking sword or something, so I flat out refused to go anywhere near the place.  It was decided I'd ring the bloke off a withheld number and put a heavily scottish accent on asking loads questions about the car to distract him while my mate went down the drive for his grinder. Which wasn't there anymore.

 

Top posting here, I’ve been laughing my ass off over it all day and just read it out to the wife and eldest daughter, crying with laughter all the way through. (to be fair they didn’t really get it but so what?)

[plasticvandan]

I think the more.recent ability to check MOT history online (I won't even message someone who's blanked the plate) and when the v5 changed has cut down on the amount of wasted journeys,it's possible to weed out 95% of adverts before even making contact. Indeed,I probably wouldn't have bought a lot of my old cars if I had that prior knowledge as well