I was recently faced with a dilemma. My car was getting to the stage of life where trips to the repair shop were increasingly painful. It was a great car and it served me well, but like all things mechanical, it was nearing the end of it's worry-free life. It was time to sell it.
Where to sell? Who would want it? If I traded it at the dealer, they may have given me five hundred bucks for it, so I decided to take it to the people. As much as I despise Craigslist for being the inner-web's version of Wal-mart at 2am, I decided that it was the best way to reach my target audience for this item.
I thought about who would want this car in this condition and set out writing a story they could relate with. Dudes like cars, car-dudes like women and above all, dudes like stupid humor, so, the story practically wrote itself from that starting point.
Below is the actual ad. Apparently people liked the story, because I had several dozen emails within a few hours and cash in hand the next day. They probably liked the car too. It was a damn good car.
Try creating a whimsical story around something in your life that seems "normal". It's good for the mind.
For Sale: 2003 Jaguar S-Type
Not every love affair can last forever, thus I offer the world one of the finest automobiles with which I have ever been in a lasting and serious relationship.
I remember seeing her for the first time like it was just yesterday, well, maybe more like three weeks ago. It was November, 2005 and there we were in the showroom “conveniently” at the same time. I saw pictures on line, but you know how you can’t trust those, especially when they’re wearing sunglasses and the lighting is bad. The first thing I noticed were the curves, but then I couldn’t take my eyes off that chrome. MmmmHmmm!
It was love at first sight there in the showroom. Not only was curvy little British number gorgeous, but practical too. The gray paint was more interesting than white, but didn’t show dirt like black paint. Her 3.0 liter V6 power plant, coupled with a smooth shifting six speed transmission got me everywhere I needed to go and don’t get me started on those dove gray leather seats. Dayum!
The years rolled by and we went through a lot together. We brought babies home, drove to funerals together and more than our fair share of weddings. No speeding tickets though, which is weird, because she’ll do an easy 115 if you need it. Ever reliable and just like you’d hope for, she’s a lady in the street, but a freak on the interstate.
So why end such a torrid and exciting affair? It’s simple really. Sometimes a flame burns too hot and one day you wake up and realize that you’re no longer the people you were when you first met. After some awkward rationalizations and half hearted gestures, you realize that it’s time to move on with life. Apart.
A FEW STATS WORTH NOTING:
-At just under a a quarter million miles, she runs strong for her age .
-The AC feels like you just bit into a York Peppermint Patty
-The heat works, pretty reliably, most of the time, -ish
-I haven’t the faintest idea why I’m referring to a car as “she”, but I heard a British guy do it on tv once and it feels kinda right.
-All windows, doors and sunroof work as they should
-The latch on the center console stopped working, but can still be opened easily
-In her prime, she could make the Kessel run in under twelve parsecs
-The remote lock/unlock gave up a long time ago.
-The 6 cd changer in the trunk seems to have walked out on its contract. The one in the dash works great though.
-The headliner is a little saggy in the back seat area
-I left 57 cents in random change in the ash tray. You’re welcome
-Though referred to here as “she”, this car has not been formally named and can be anyone you want him/her/they to be.
-There is oxidation (not rust) above the paint layer on the rims that will need professional help to remove.
-George Washington once slept in the back seat on a trip between Valley Forge and Mt. Vernon.
-Title is clear and free of confoundedness, perplexities and other such vexations
IF YOU PURCHASE THIS VEHICLE:
-It’s an as-is deal. No Warrantee. No backsies.
-You will be 53% more attractive to the gender of your choice (+or- 3%)
-Life will be all rainbows and unicorns. Forever.
-I’ll need payment in small bills stacked neatly in a suitcase that I can later handcuff to my wrist. (cause It always looked cool in the spy movies) Or a cashier’s check. That would also work.
*Some claims have been exaggerated to show texture.