SOLD!!

That last post...the one about the Sebring for sale...yeah, forget that.

It's gone. Good riddance. I liked the car, but the "problems" were so overbearing. It was time. The saddest part was that I didn't even have the car long enough to bond with it. Yes, I bond with my cars. Haven't you ever named your car? Well, the Sebring didn't get a name.

(The Escort I had before that, for, like 10 years, was affectionately dubbed Betsy...just in case you were curious.)

Becky and I travelled down the road in our PT Cruiser (Becky's car) looking for a replacement for the Sebring, which sat, dead, in the driveway. We stopped a few places...saw some overpriced cars (2004 Mustang Convertible for 28,000? YIKES!!) and finally ended up at Fletcher Chrsyler.

Here's the condensed story on our dealings with Fletcher Chysler.

We bought the PT Cruiser there. A year later, we bought the Sebring there. The Sebring, as I have mentioned in the past postings, was, for the most past, a turd. The battery had to be charged a week after we got it, and 4 months later, the battery was replaced all together. I called Fletcher up, and they said,

"It's past the 3 month warranty, sorry, nothing we can do."

Nothing we can do? How about treating your repeat customers with some respect and at least looking at the car. I should have known that's how they operate. When we bought the Sebring, it had new rims, and the dealer rims were in the trunk, and they were part of the deal. When we picked the car up...the rims were gone. We eventually got them back, but, come on.

So, we stopped anyway. I have a knack for wanting to trust people who are not to be trusted. Becky kept the car warm, as I wandered inside to inquire on a newer Sebring. Why another Sebring? You try to find a cheap convertible!!

The salesman quoted a few prices, $11,000 for the '01...$18,000 for the '04...then he pointed in the direction of the PT Cruiser Convertibles...

Becky and I had tried to get one in the summer, but they were $32,000 and $600 a month. OUCH!! But here we stood, on the USED car lot, staring at a PT Convertible.

I won't tell you how much the car was, but let's say it was about half the cost of the new one. I grabbed Becky, and we hashed out a deal. It was a good one, too. We shook hands and agreed to bring the Sebring to him the next day.

One problem...the Sebring was dead in the driveway, it was 8:30 pm, we still had to eat dinner, and the CAR WAS DEAD!! We drove our dueling PT Cruisers back towards Columbus (yes, we took the new car home...I had to have something to drive to work!!) and made the plan.

We could either replace the battery or charge it. Since Auto Zone was probably closed, and I didn't find taking the tire off and changing the battery in 20 degree weather appealing, we opted for the charge. (Plus, it was a good chance to stick a crap battery on the people who stuck me with a crap battery.)

We ate, and I headed towards the 'Burg for my dad's charger. 10:00pm, 30 minutes one way. Oh, well. I got the charger, got back home and hooked the car up. The key locks worked, so I knew we were in business. I would leave it on over night, and all would be well.

This is the part where all was not well.

After charging for 18 HOURS, I unhooked the battery charger at 5:00pm the following day, cranked the engine, and...nothing....zero....zilch...NAAKA!!

I frantically started to tear the tire off the car, determined to replace the battery and make it to the appointment we set for 6:30pm. I got the tire off, pulled the flap in the wheel well off, and I heard the door unlock. "What the ...?"

It seems all I needed to do was wiggle the wires. I got up, cranked the car, and it was alive. I left it running (for fear it would never start again) as I replaced the flap and the tire. I washed up, and we headed off.

On the way to Franklin, I talked to my Sebring, begging for it to start "one more time" so the dealer would give the green light. I even named the car on that last trip...Goldie (the car was gold colored.)

We listened to "Daughters" by John Mayer, and "Lady" by Lenny Kravitz...and together, we made it to the dealer. Funny part was, the dealer didn't even try to start Goldie. I guess they had faith that if I could drive it there, it would start again. Suckers!!

After we signed the papers, it didn't matter if they could start it or not. At that point, there would be "nothing I could do."