In the weeks before I bought the Chevy Impala, Dan called repeatedly:
“Have you made a decision about selling your car?”
“No, I’m not in a hurry,” I responded.
Dan pulled into the driveway if I was outside. We made small talk before he asked about my car. He then began to bring cars to the house. The second time he pulled in with the Impala, I drove it around.
I then made a decision that would cost me dearly in time, finances, and health. On January 11, 2012 I purchased the ’08 Chevrolet Impala.
By the time I discovered it was rebuilt, took it back to the dealership because of problems, got the car back with the issues unresolved … weeks had passed.
It was now February 8th. The dealership gave me a 2005 Nissan as a loaner, until they got another car ready. Jeni asked why they put my tag on the Nissan.
“We’re out of dealer tags,” someone quipped.
Still in pain over the loss of my husband so much got by me, only I wasn’t worried. I didn’t look at the papers I signed “just to make me legal.” After all, Dan is my neighbor and does business with the dealership.
Since that day I have:
- Discovered major issues with Nissan/unsafe to drive/219,000 miles
- Called dealer/suppose to see white Impala w/low mileage
- Sent letter to dealership
- Called and went to car lot repeatedly
- Feb.17 looked at ’07 blue Impala/can’t be released till 27th
- Refused ’07 Impala/has issues and high mileage
- Checked ’06 Impala/damaged w/cracked windshield/233,000 miles
There is so much more but you get the picture. None of these vehicles are worth $7,400.
Everyone has a stress level; I reached that point on March 9, 2012. Dan, Bob, Jen and I were in the driveway when I went down. It was a seizure. Bob and Dan helped me into the house, while Jen rushed for my medication.
Dan was upset and left for the car lot; this had to be settled. It is not. The nightmare continues.
Yesterday, April 11, Dan called. He was at the dealership, the owner wanted to talk with me. We made an appointment for Monday about the silver ’06 Impala.
I have been without transportation for more than two months.
To be continued…
May Your Glass Always Be Half Full