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How the Crazy Cash Lady Got that wad of Cash

Smells like Shopping
Smells like Shopping

If you recall my fantastic test drive date, you might recollect that my husband had conceded to giving up his truck as long as I purchased a vehicle with a similar tow rating. How did a test drive lead to the crazy fan of cash you see me holding? Let me tell you the tale.

After driving the Durango, we decided to list my car (2007 Acura RDX) on Craig’s List to see if we’d get any nibbles. If the car sold, we would take his truck (2005 Dodge Ram 2500) in for trade. Using that and the money from my car, we would be able to purchase the beautiful 2014 Dodge Durango Limited outright.

The next day, my husband has the Acura on Craig’s List. Yes, this is the same man who took two months to hand off the house listing papers to me. You guessed this is the same Mr. Wonderful who ten months later has just finally listed the house on Craig’s List. Yup. Very. Next. Day.

He gets two emails within hours. Two days later, he’s driving the car to work because a dealer near his office wants to make an offer. That same day, he gets two more offers. One guy emailed him a picture of the pile of cash he intended to pay with.

Safe to say we will be able to sell my car, right?

Before we listed it for sale, he did the Edmonds and Kelly Blue Book valuing. As you know, there’s always a broad range and no one’s car is rated in “excellent” condition. Our range: $15,500 to $17,900 (or something similar). We listed it in the middle $16,900 and agreed $16,000 was the lowest we would go.

Less than a week later, a young guy (seriously could NOT have been over 25) and his friend show up driving a Cadillac. This is the guy who sent a picture of his cash. His first offer was $15,000 “And here’s what that looks like.” Yada, yada. Who does that?

“We said we weren’t going below $16,000,” I remind my husband. He forgets things sometimes. Don’t we all? (This is me giving him the benefit of the doubt, not being mean-spirited or controlling.)

I guess a stack of 150 one hundred dollar bills can be mesmerizing. He asked for $15,500 and the guy snapped it up. Of course, he’s going to sell it for $17,900 to someone else!

Mr. Moneybags only had the $15,000 out and ready to spend after checking that my car was indeed awesome and in as close to “excellent” condition as a vehicle could get. My husband is meticulous about automobile upkeep – inside, outside and under the hood. The guy opens up his trunk, where he has a briefcase.

He pops it open and – I am not making this up – it’s full of $100-bills, neatly bundled by $1,000 stacks. It was like a B-movie. My husband smarts off, “Should I get out my plastic baggies filled with white powder?”

It was indeed that cheesy scene. Real life is crazier than fiction – and doesn’t read with quite the same verve either.

I counted the money. I still wanted $16,000. With all those people lining up to buy my car, I believe we could have found a buyer to pay that price. Obviously, Mr. Trunk-Full-of-Cash could have coughed up another five Benjamins.

And there you have the story to accompany the crazy cash lady photograph.

What’s the most cash you’ve ever held in your hand? Do you have any car buying or selling tales to share?

(Special thanks to Kelly Roberts for the epic caption beneath the picture.)

3 thoughts on “How the Crazy Cash Lady Got that wad of Cash”

  1. You couldn’t make that stuff up. That is amazing! I don’t know the exact amount of cash I’ve held but I know it’s no where close to that much!

    We have a unique car situation in our house. When our daughter was about two years old, we traded in our Chevy Cavalier and Honda Civic for a Pontiac Vibe. My husband’s brother worked (still does) for a car dealership in a small town two hours from us, so we got a great deal. It was kind of scary going from two cars to one, but before we’d done that, my car had mostly sat in the garage–he and I worked similar hours although at different places, so he’d just drop me off and come get me each day. We were newly married (only five months we we conceived our daughter) so we went everywhere together. It just worked and was cheaper.

    That was 11 years ago and the Vibe is still chugging along. Like anything old and well-used, she’s cost us a little more money over the past couple of years, but other than regular maintenance, she’s been a great car. She has 146,000 on her, and we intend to drive her into the ground. It will be a sad day—she’s been with us for most of our marriage and our daughter’s life. The only other thing we have that’s been with us close to that long is our leather couch, chair and ottoman.

    The Vibe has carried us to the hospital for our daughter’s hernia and oral surgeries; she’s taken us on multiple trips around the midwest; she’s transported our house contents through three moves and my husband’s art work to various shows; she’s shuttled us to countless dance practices, archery meets, and kids’ birthday parties; she’s delivered us to surprise 30th and 40th parties, a few weddings, and multiple trips to the airport; she’s carried our rescued wire fox terrier from her horrible puppy mill life to our loving, welcoming home.

    She’s been there for the big moments and the mundane. There are remnants of pool water, coffee, soda, dog slobber, kid vomit, sweat, potato chip crumbs, lost change, sand and pebbles imbedded in her tight crevices and floor boards.

    But she’s still there for us. She’s still running. I don’t know where else she’ll take us, but I know I’ll be heartbroken when she delivers us to the car dealership and to her shiny, barely touched replacement.

    1. My husband had some sort of new car fettish. I am like you and have sentimental attachments when I drive a vehicle for a long time, but since we have been married that averages 5 – 8 years. My fist car was a Toyota Corolla that I bought for less than $2,000 and put 100,000 miles on before it met with a deer and destruction.
      I had a 2000 Dodge Durango that I adored, and I was kicking and screaming when my husband traded it for the Acura. It’s ironic that I am back to a Durango now that I don’t need such a big rig, and I hope I can keep it until I drive it into the ground.

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