Regina Leader-Post

Navigating the perils of buying a used vehicle

Good people do sell cars, but you must be ready to walk away if it’s not right

- DAWN DUMONT

I’m cheap — or, for the delicate among you, “frugal.” So it’s pretty difficult for me to rationaliz­e buying a new vehicle, driving it off the lot and promptly losing 20 per cent of its value. That’s like almost an entire tire.

Of course, how many things don’t lose value when you buy them? It’s not like those $15 stretch pants I bought at Urban Planet are appreciati­ng in value. When I buy eggs, I don’t expect one of them to turn out to be a Faberge. And my Sephora purchases have not yet had a positive impact on my investment portfolio (though I have accumulate­d enough points to qualify for a free lecture on proper skin care by an 18-year-old with skin so glowingly perfect that I can only look at her through my peripheral vision).

But if I am in the mood to delude myself that there is a good option when buying a car, I prefer buying used — or, for the delicate, “preowned.”

I’ve been looking through the used car ads, enjoying the descriptio­ns. The term “ladydriven” always makes me smile as I recall all the times I’ve driven over the curb at Starbucks, emboldened by sheer impatience. Then there’s the sellers who have to tell you the reason they’re selling, always something innocuous like “need something bigger for the family.” It’s never something more realistic, like “the last time I took it in, the mechanic gave me a quote that made my eyes bleed.”

Buying used forces you out of your comfort zone. You can’t just put your wallet in the well-lotioned hands of a car salesman, you have to foray into the land of Kijiji strangers. It’s then I have to remind myself that good people do sell cars. For instance, I sold a car privately once (and I’m a goodish person). As the seller, I was honest about the car’s shortcomin­gs: “As soon as it goes below -10, you must plug it in, wrap it in a blanket and murmur heartfelt words of encouragem­ent before starting. Also, the tires are Mr. Clean bald.”

Other good people also sell cars. About six months ago, my sister bought a used car. A couple days later, it conked out on -30 C day. The previous owner drove into town, fixed some cables, boosted her, and got her back on the road. My sister totalled the car a month later, but I appreciate­d the good service the sellers gave her while the car lasted.

Although my feminist side disagrees vehemently, it is integral that you factor in the Y chromosome. By that I mean bring your boyfriend, best guy friend or dad to the sale. Any man-looking person will do, even if they know nothing about vehicles. Once I brought my dad, who literally said nothing the entire time we looked at vehicles except, “Can I smoke here?” Nowadays I bring my partner, who actually looks at the engine when they open the hood, whereas my eyes glaze over. (What the hell are they looking at? To me, it looks like a bowl of metal spaghetti.)

And remember, at all times, you must pretend that you are in the power seat (even if it’s just a banana bike seat). Even if that car represents freedom from bus rides or from hitching rides with your friends, you have to act like you have five cars at home, all of them Lexuses (Lexi?). When the seller says, “take it or leave it,” you must be willing to walk way, in some cases literally.

Buying a used car is like meeting a guy in the bar — some of them will be lemons, another might turn out to be the father of your children. Your instinct may be to stay out of the used-car market, but there are good deals. You just gotta get out there and kick a few tires.

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