Post by
will_vicious »
https://forums.nicoclub.com/will-vicious-u56672.html
Thu Feb 26, 2009 7:25 am
My name's Will, I'm 26 and just won the war for my 240sx.
Here's a story for every one of you people who really wanted your 240, and for whatever reason faced adversity in getting it:
Ever since I was 11, I've loved the 180/240/Silvia/Datsun Z series of cars. Had posters on my wall. Paintings of 'em. My dad spent alot of time in Japan, so his version of 'good ol muscle' was fairladies and such. I never was too mechanically inclined or anything, so I never ended up getting any kind of project car or anything. In fact, for years I settled for a civic that was cheap.
One day, I was searching in my neighborhood video store (a huge anime fan lol) and came across a new series I'd never seen before. Initial D was the series name. And on the cover was something that made my heart stop: A gorgeous black S13 fastback.
Didn't give two s***s and a half about the show itself, really. I mean, I'm sure it was good, but who could really focus on plotlines and such with that beast of a machine tear'n up asphault down a mountain? I realised something after I looked over at a clock and had spent 2 hours straight watching this ONE episode... I either needed a CAT scan, or a 240.
It only took me 3 days to track down my intended target. 1993 Black Fastback. Ironic right? Paint wasn't too bad, and the cracks in the dashboard could be fixed or replaced. It ran decent too, but I didn't honestly care, as I figured I'd learn how to fix any problems that came up, right? Any problem that is, except bad credit, which kept me from walking off the lot with this $2,200 car.
My girlfriend at the time offered to go pick the car up. She offered to cosign for the car since I made more than emough to cover it easily, and as a surprise, later that night I walked out to smoke a cigarette, and was staring into the dark pits of a chuki's headlights. f*** all of you, I cried. I think I even hugged the car. I ran out and walked around it, took pictures of it, and finally, got in.
I stayed up so late that my alarm clock for work went off. Sound stupid? Imagine if that car was your dream car, the equivelent of your Skyline, your Veyron, your Supra. That's how I felt. I grew up well off (lol think about it, West Plano haha) but my folks always wanted me to work for what I had. And now, I'd worked for that 240. Problems were on the horizon, though. Big problems with dire consequences.
I said I loved 240's. I didn't say I was a loyal relationship partner.
You can imagine how it went down. Old gf was an 8.1 on the scale, new gf was a 9.5. I'm just playing the cards chosen for me, doing what I do. I had to upgrade, the same way you'd take off those stock wheels and slap on somethin nice 'n gunmetal. I was honest about it all, I just broke it off and explained myself. She moved out that night, and I layed my head to rest, sure that all was well. Boy f***in' howdy was I wrong.
I woke up at 7, brushed my teeth, made my hair look halfway respectable, threw on work clothes, grabbed my key and grinned. I walked out of the back door, shut and locked the door behind me, walked out to my garage area, opened the door and literally dropped my jaw so to the point that my cigarette fell out of my mouth. The Amp can dropped, my briefcase dropped.
My car was gone.
I flew inside, had the cops in one ear, reporting my gorgeous 240 stolen, and work on the other phone telling them I wouldn't be able to come in today. The cops came, I filed a report, couldn't imagine that someone would have taken my car. And then, the cop said something that made the world stop. "Do you know anyone who might have taken this car"The words flew out of my mouth before I knew what I'd just said. "Sarah Ann Martin, she lives in Longview TX. Find my f***ing car."
The cops came back in just 40 minutes. They told me that they'd found my car, and that Sarah was disputing who the car belonged to. They told me, that she had the title, and now the car, and now I was SOL with a $2,200 hole in my account. I won't even lie, I wept. That car, was my dream. That was my sole adoration into the automotive world, that was my hard work and joy ahead.
And I'd rather slam my d!ck in a sliding glass door than see that car gone.
Sarah had a habit of asking for me to take cellphone pictures, which I obliged. Some of which were XXX rated, and some of which even moreso questionable (don't ask lol). Not only that, but I knew the type of guy she liked, and had a few friends that both hated her and fit the bill. I knew way too much about her habits and such to just let this sleeping dog lie.
It was easy, post a few pics on a couple sites to make a few bucks off her a** to pay for any potential court fees. Next, send the pictures to her family's work email addresses (a quick AD search told me everyone in their distribution groups, which magnified the embarassment by 8-f***in-billion %) and my decoy, Phil Demming (thanks Phil, I STILL owe ya) went in to lure the scorned wench.
It took about three weeks, before Phil was in, and agreeing to help buy her car from her. We went down to European Automotive and had the owner (who was very sympathetic to our cause) print us out a buyer-seller agreement (I learned my lesson the hard way lol), and Phil had her sign all of her parts, which he was supposed to sign afterwards, she thought. After she finished, I round the corner (secretly armed with a voice recorder) and bring up how much money I'd paid for that car. She knew Phil would know the truth, so she agreed with everything, even at one point correcting me for a payment I'd made that was $40 too much. Reaching in my pocket for a lighter, I switched the recorder off, and informed Sarah that those nasty pictures (which, had only raised 50-something dollars) could vanish, if everything was corrected the way it should be. She knew to keep decently calm, but showed signs of agitation, which I happened to record some of.
Phil took Sarah outside to smoke while I went to the shop area and signed the papers in the blank spots for the buyer. It felt good as f*** to put '2,200' under the 'price paid' field, and I put the papers in the passenger seat where Phil knew to pick them up upon his return inside. A few moments later, they came inside, Sarah sneering as she 'sold my car to Phil', and Phil sneering as he handed the papers to me. At first, she threatened to rip the docs, yada yada; but after a few moments of listening to the recorder, I think discretion paid off in her wee little head and an hour later, I was signing the title at the DMV in the courthouse; with a very aggrevated Sarah in tow.
I drove that car home, and named her, like I should have forever ago.'V'. Not for 'Vendetta', no...
For 'Victorious'.
Remember, that even though it's hell, your car is worth any f***ing WAR life might throw at you. Don't get down on yourself over it, just think of it as another oppertunity to prove how dedicated you are, and just how bad you want it.
(This story in every detail is entirely true. Want proof? Msg me for the pictures, links to the myspaces/xpeeps/etc and maybe if I'm having a rough enough day, her phone number bwa-hahaaaaa)