Car Shopping for Zen Buddhist

"This, my friends," announced the used car salesman, "is a real creampuff. I am telling you, it's an EXCELLENT car for your money."

Creampuff? Did he actually use the world CREAMPUFF? I couldn't believe my ears.

"You would be CRAZY if you didn't get THIS little dreamboat," he continued. "I can sell THIS car all day long!"

Zen Buddhist was obviously starry-eyed. Being both impressionable and naive, she was already leaning toward a car that would put her over her budget. My friend Rick, his daughter, and I were there with her, knowing that if we weren't there to intervene, she'd be signing a contract which would obligate her to payments that would result in her car being repo'd within a month.

Zen hadn't needed a car until her old beater had blown up on the highway one day when she was on her way to work. The last time she'd been in the market for a car was many years ago, and she simply had no real idea what it was going to take.

"I really like that car," she said dreamily, pointing to another one. I winced. You don't let on about the car you prefer until you're down to the last moment.

"Now THAT," he began enthusiastically, "THAT..."

I tuned him out, hoping that we'd be able to convince Zen that she had to think sensibly. She was on a tight budget with no trade-in, and could never afford $300 - $400 a month plus the insurance she'd need to cover such "creampuffs" which might explode in creamy glory on the highway anyway, leaving her both with payments and no car.

We'd already gone to a couple car lots. She was terribly disappointed to see what we thought were sensible cars when she'd set her heart on something much more glamorous and expensive. We repeatedly discussed her budget with her, but Zen's mind was set: She wanted a nicer car and would somehow save money to afford it. We had to change her mind. Fast.

Zen's car had blown up several towns away, despite her putting a vast amount of money into it's repairs. It was an American-made car (thus a low-quality one) and couldn't be expected to last even half the time a Japanese-import could. So, Zen was now determined to buy Japanese and wouldn't consider another American-made car under any circumstances.

Though we understood her reasoning (and even agreed with it) we tried to convince her that an older Toyota or Honda was the way to go. By older, we meant something manufactured in the 80s or 90s, purchased from an individual instead of a dealer, and something that could be paid for outright so that she wouldn't be locked into car payments.

For two days, Zen would not be deterred. She had the extra incentive of believing that she was going to be given $1000 from her employer toward the car, which would leave her with only the regular payments. Although I had encouraged her to ask for money from them, I was still surprised when she enthusiastically told me that they had agreed to actually GIVE her the money.

Yesterday, we met her stepfather out at the first car. He examined it briefly and then told us that it was a definate NO, so we moved on. She indulged me and agreed to look at an old Toyota for $1500, which everyone was hoping would work for her, but that car was a lemon. We also looked at the "creampuffs". At this point, Zen's stepfather turned to her and simply said "It's a good car, honey, but you can't afford it." Zen was crestfallen. Having to hear this from so many people was discouraging. This is when she became more practical.

"Zen, you really went through the paper and couldn't find any good cars?!" I asked again, for the fourteenth time.

"Well..." Zen said reluctantly, "I didn't really see anything that looked good."

"Will you humor me and go through it again and see if you can find something that falls within the parameters of what you can afford?" I asked.

She agreed to.

We had to take care of a couple of things, and when we got back, she got in the car and pointed reluctantly to a couple of good cars in the right categories for the right pricing. We set off once more, to see an old JI (Japanese Import) from the 80s.

We pulled up at a tiny little house in nearby city. Although it was a small house, it was clean and well-kept. So was the JI car in front of it.

The retiree living there came out from his house, keys in hand. We cranked up the car, looked at it inside and out (it was in pristine condition) and took it for a test drive. By now it was almost 5 o'clock and the banks were closed.

We negotiated the owner to a reasonable price and sealed the deal with a handshake, telling him we'd be by with the cash the following day. "Wait a minute!" he said, startled. "You mean I just got bargained down and you're not even giving me cash right now?" We agreed that that was exactly what had just happened. We waved goodbye to each other: We had agreed to pay him the following morning once the banks opened.

Zen got on the phone with her company to make sure she was still getting that $1000 that had been promised to her. As she talked on the phone with her boss, she grew pale. I was concerned: "What?!" I hissed. She shook her head, said goodbye, and then closed her cell phone and announced that her company had decided to only LOAN her the money.

"Whew! Good thing we settled on this car and not a more expensive one, then!" I said, sympathetically.

This morning we were occupied with getting the $1000 into her bank account and obtaining insurance, tax, tag, and title. When it was all over, Zen went back home to collapse.

Zen now has a good and practical car, and we are done car shopping. For now. That is, until THIS one blows up on the highway. I'm merely hoping that that will be at least 5 years from now.