Today it was finally time for my best friend to get a proper car. He has driven a Kia Soul
for the last 2 years and finally saved up enough for the car of his childhood dreams, the E24 6 Series. Being the "BMW guy" of my friend group, I had been searching for the right car for the past few weeks for him.
I had found a beautiful 6er on craigslist for sale in a very wealthy neighborhood just 15 minutes away from our town. Excited, I had contacted the seller via phone and spoke with a woman who seemed very clueless about the car and very eager for us to come see it. Regardless, we set up a time and went today.
We pull up to the gate of this house; rather mansion. Upon arrival, the wrought iron gates swing open in a seamless motion, and we travel down the long, winding driveway to see a Maserati, various BMW's and a Range Rover parked neatly in their front driveway. We ring the door bell and a middle aged woman opens the door with a big grin and a glass of chardonnay in hand. She invites us in and offers us BOTH a glass of wine prior to even discussing the car. We politely decline the offer of alcohol to the young men about to test drive their BMW. Great start.
Now she takes us to her garage; rather showroom. It's filled with BMW memorabilia and a silhouette under a (you guessed it), "BMW" branded car cover. Like removing a bra from a perfect 10, we carefully slip the cover off and she hands us the keys. She tells us to take our time, have fun, and to really open her up. Cool lady.
Off we went and the car drove extremely well. It was apparent the car was well cared for. Everything was in working order and it was an absolute blast. I just couldn't stop smiling seeing that long nose in front of us and hearing that glorious M30 engine. We were sold. The car was just pristine for it's age, and a steal at their price.
We returned about 30 minutes later and noticed a brand new 911, not so neatly parked in the driveway now. We get out of the 6er, slowly walking as we admire the 911, and walk to the door as a man, mid 50's approaches with a very angry face. He asks who we are and why the hell we are driving his car. Confused, we tell him we would like to move forward with the purchase.
Now the man started yelling for his wife to "get the hell over here" and told us it isn't for sale. Bright red and embarrassed now, still with the chardonnay in hand, she tells; rather yells at her husband that he needs to sell it. She starts screaming at him that it's a money pit and an eye sore. She tells him either it goes or she goes. They start screaming at each other even louder and as things escalate in this quiet and serene neighborhood, my friend and I walk away as quick as we can and haven't heard from them since.
Today, I learned a very valuable lesson: I should never get married.
