The Deal, part 2

Continuing from here The Deal, part 1

After a decent night's sleep, I woke up determined to make the 190E I found on the internet mine and on my terms. However, I got a bit of a bad feeling, since the car was being sold through a dealer and I have had two previous experiences with purchasing a pre-owned vehicle from other ones, neither were too good.

I left my house and used Google Maps on my Android phone, just to be sure I was going at least in the right direction. Sure enough, after a mere ten minute drive, I had arrived and spotted the car in question without any difficulty. Somebody had parked it on top of a berm, located on the west side of the lot, alongside a few other used treasures.

It was late morning, just before noon and the lot was fairly quiet. Finding a parking spot was easy, since there was hardly anyone around and I strolled over to the Mercedes. To my surprise, I found it unlocked.

The interior met my expectations for a car of this age, almost better than I first hoped, since the picture posted online matched what I was looking at. The big surprise came from seeing the factory Becker Grand Prix AM/FM/Cassette still in the dash! I wondered if it even still worked.

As I slipped behind the wheel and grasped it in my hands, the very feeling of being in there was having an effect I hadn't felt in a very long time. I had to break the moment and take in the rest of this experience with a clearer head.

The exterior had two major....blemishes that caused a little concern, besides the obviously missing front bumper cover. First, this odd paint distortion/deterioration spot on the hood. Looking under neath at the engine, the spot is directly above the exhaust manifold. A fire or severe overheating?

The driver's side rear lower quarters was the other. By far, this is the most corroded area of the car, but it is still just on the surface. A missing plastic clip that couldn't be found, but the trim piece was laying on the back dash, between the speakers.  

As I knew it would, the motions I was making while examining the car drew the attention of a salesman. He approached me with a leisurely saunter and asked "Want to hear it running?" I was almost tempted to give a flippant remark in return, but decided against it and just nodded. He turned on one heel and wandered back to the main building.

After a few minutes, he came back with a portable booster and one set of keys. Actually, just a single key on a ring that he gave me. I slipped behind the wheel again and tried to start it. Nothing, not even a click, rrrrrr or a buzz. Popped the hood and he hooked the cables up to the battery and we both waited about a minute. I tired again and the car started just like that. The salesman unhooked the portable booster and asked if I wanted to test drive it. I replied with "Splendid idea." Splendid, where did that come from?

As he happened to have a few other sets of keys on him, the salesman started up and moved other cars that just happened to be parked behind the Mercedes. Coincidence? I highly doubt it. While he was doing that, I was watching the gauges as the ticking four cylinder was warming up. Sounded more like a diesel than a gas powered engine, part of that comes with old age and perhaps even that hood paint issue I noted earlier.

I slipped the transmission out of park and into reverse, backing down the berm. I managed to turn the car around and just stepped down on the gas. It lurched forward and built up speed in the small lot, very quickly. Yeah, the old girl still had a lot of life left in her. The brakes didn't disappoint either, with my hands of the wheel, it slowed straight and true without any lockup or pulling to either side. I did that a few more times and returned the Mercedes back to it's former spot on the berm. I wish I had brought somebody along to film me using the lot as a test track of sorts.

During this time, the salesman had wandered back to the main building, no doubt waiting for me to make an appearance with the lone key he loaned me. I found him sitting behind a desk in a little glass front cubicle. I walked in and just sat down. "So, what did you think?" he asked. "Not bad, needs a lot of work," I replied, curious to see how this game would be played out. However, I was sticking to my guns on a decision I made during my tear around the lot.

I was prepared to pay as close to the price advertised on the window tag and seriously not much more. Yes, I was impressed with how the car performed in the lot, but knew that owning a Mercedes long term can get quite expensive, especially trying to bring back up to par and regular maintenance. I had no idea if this guy knew that or not, but right now, the vibe I was getting was this was nothing more than another sale.

I opened the discussion with, "How much with everything, price and taxes?" He started to tap keys on a calculator and writing some figures down on a Post-It Note pad. "Looks to be about $2200, all in." I tried to suppress my feeling with disappointment at that answer. He picked up on that and countered with, "What would it take to move it of the lot?" Okay, time for my move and see how serious he is to close this sale. "The price hanging in the window," I answered, "All in."

My to my surprise, he didn't even flinch. I knew that figure would leave him with a much lower commission, over than what was already built in to the asking price. "I know that car has been here awhile." I said. "Only ten days," he replied. We both knew that wasn't true, a dead battery on a car that nobody has been looking at (both the exterior and interior showed very little signs of any other interested parties, something I was keen to keep a careful eye out for) is possible, but not in this case.

"Sticker is my final offer," I was prepared to leave empty handed, that was that. "Let me see what my manager will say to this," came his reply. This is the part of the game I always hate. I know that sometimes, the salesman will actually talk with the manager to see if the profit loss on a deal is worth closing a sale. Other times, they just have a quick chit-chat about something not even related to the sale, just to create that appearance that comes with the deal.

A timed seven minutes later, he came back with an extended hand, "It's a deal." I shock his hand, feeling very little surprise in how fast this all happened. Then, I was guided over to the finance department, a much bigger glass front cubical and had a more pleasant conversation with the young woman there. We talked about the weather, the car I bought and exchanged Christmas ideas for our spouses. With the paperwork all in order and signatures in all the right spots, I owned the car.

I found the car I originally arrived in and drove home. After an hour long break there, I started the trek back to collect on the new purchase, on foot. It was a mere 6 kilometer walk and without the aid of my at-work-wife or any friends, it was a good chance to get any buyer's remorse out of my system. Oddly, none came.

In fact, during my little jaunt, I saw what I believe to be a good sign that I made the right move.