Tag Archives: car

Cheer's Favorites, Other

Luxury Cars and Cold Hard Cash in the Morning

1 Comment

Cheer lists her 2002 Lexus IS300 for sale online and receives an email response from Tom, who is interested in seeing the car. Tom gives his phone number and requests a call from Cheer. Tom is available anytime, he says. Tom does not believe in punctuation or capitalization. Cheer and Tom meet one night for a test drive after Tom gets out of work. Tom is of average height, mid-twenties, looks to be of Middle Eastern decent, but has a New York accent. He’s clean cut, trendy, confident and wearing too much cologne. Tom brings his baby boy and a friend. Tom’s friend is Sedgwick, who is the strong, silent, don’t-fuck-with-me type. Sedgwick holds the baby. Cheer and Tom leave Sedgwick and baby behind, and Cheer gets in the passenger seat to let Tom drive her baby.

In the car driving around New York City’s Upper East Side:

Tom: “You know I was quite surprised upon meeting you tonight.”

Cheer: “Why?”

Tom: “Well, when I spoke to you on the phone I thought you were Indian.”

Cheer: “Hahaha. Indian? What?!”

Tom: “Yeah, Indian or black.”

Cheer: “Black? What?! Hahaha. Indian or black? Those were the two options?”

Tom: “Yeah, you know, you sounded different. And you’re over there in Harlem.”

Cheer: “Wow. You are the first person to ever tell me I sounded Indian or black, or anything other than the non-accented, pasty, redhead I am.”

Tom: “Really?”

Cheer: “Really. But, your error amuses me greatly.”

Tom: “So, how’d you end up in Harlem?”

Cheer: “Well, that’s where I found an apartment with everything I was looking for. I opted for space and amenities over location.”

Tom: “Huh. I don’t approve.”

Cheer: “I’ll keep that in mind while I continue to live there. But I’ll humor you, where do you suggest I live? Long Island? That’s where you live, right?”

Tom: “No, I work in Long Island. I live in Queens.”

Cheer: “Ah. So, I should live in Queens?”

Tom: “Yeah. Queens is great.”

Cheer: “Why’s that?”

Tom: “Well, I grew up there, and I still live there, so to avoid cognitive dissonance, I think it’s the best place to live.”

Cheer: “That’s cute.”

Later that same test drive:

Cheer: “So, are you familiar with the IS? Or do you want to know a little about it?”

Tom: “Nah, I’m familiar. I used to have a GS.”

Cheer: “GS, IS, same thing. What evs. So, why do you need a second car?”

Tom: “Oh, I’m not buying it for me.”

Cheer: “Oh. Who are you buying it for?”

Tom: “My baby mama.”

Cheer: “Did you really just use the phrase, ‘my baby mama,’ in a completely serious tone?”

Tom: “Pretty much. That’s how I roll.”

Cheer: “OK. Just wanted to clarify. So…that’s a pretty nice gift.”

Tom: “Yeah, well, you know. She’s driving me crazy without one.”

Cheer: “Well, I know that’s my number one reason for buying people luxury cars.”

Cheer and Tom return to Sedgwick and the baby. Tom likes the car and wants it. Tom wants the car for far less money than the price listed in the ad.

Tom: “I want the car. I’ll give you less than you’re asking, in cash, tomorrow.”

Cheer: “Cash? As in cash, cash? You want to hand me thousands of dollars in cash?”

Tom: “Yes, cash, cash. I don’t do banks.”

Cheer: “Cash and I get along. I could like this idea. But, it’s worth more and you know it.”

Tom: “There are scratches, I have to fix the CD player…”

Cheer: “It’s still worth more. But, I’ll bargain with you. How about $500 less than my listed price?”

Tom: “I don’t bargain. Same offer.”

Cheer: “Everyone bargains in car sales. It’s like, how this works.”

Tom: “Nope. Same offer.”

Cheer: “This is where you offer $500 more than your original offer.”

Tom: “Same offer.”

Cheer: “It’s worth more. It’s from Cali. I’ll pull up the Kelly Blue Book right here on my iPhone.”

Tom: “Meh. You’re going to sell to me for less because you don’t want to find another buyer.”

Cheer: “Well, that’s a two way street. You also don’t want to find another seller.”

Tom: “You weren’t supposed to point that out.”

Cheer: “So, that’s why you need to bargain.”

Tom: “Nah. Same offer. By the way did I mention I’m cocky?”

Cheer: “I’ve picked up on it.”

Tom: “So, let’s make this deal.”

Cheer: “Yeah, I’m not a huge fan of your deal.”

Tom: “Yes, you are.”

Cheer: “Cocky. Not so perceptive.”

Tom: “Cocky is more important.”

Cheer: “Good to know. I think you should give me more money.”

Tom: “Aight. Well, I gotta talk to the wife. Cause it’s really her decision.”

Cheer: “You’re buying the car. Doesn’t that make it your decision?”

Tom: “I gotta see if it’s really what she wants, blah blah blah.”

Cheer: “OK. Is the wife the same person as the baby mama?”

Tom: “Yeah.”

Cheer: “OK, well, you talk to the wife/baby mama and you call me with a real offer.”

Tom: “OK. We’ll talk tomorrow about the same offer. The wife really has nothing to do with the purchase. I just want to make you think you might lose me, making you panic and sell for less after you think about it all night.”

Cheer: “Nice strategy. I see it through it, though.”

Tom: “OK, well, I’ve already started this façade, so I’m gonna keep going with it. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Cheer: “OK.”

The following day Cheer and Tom speak, as scheduled, about the same offer.

Tom: “So, did you think about it?”

Cheer: “Me? You were the one who was supposed to think about it and talk to the wife/baby mama. You have a better offer yet?”

Tom: “No. Same offer. That’s all I can do.”

Cheer: “Uh-huh.”

Tom: “Look, I’m gonna have to fix the scratches, the CD player, and it’s gonna cost me a lotta money.”

Cheer: “C’mon. BAR-GAIN.”

Tom: “I can’t go any higher.”

Cheer: “Don’t you realize that that number is like, my bottom, last resort number?”

Tom: “Yeah. That’s why I won’t budge.”

Cheer: “You’re making my life very hard and very easy all at the same time.”

Tom: “Thanks. I’ve spent years honing the skill to accomplish that very thing.”

Cheer: “C’mon.”

Tom: “How about this. You sell for my offer and I’ll take you out to dinner.”

Cheer: “Hahaha. Did you just ask me to dinner?”

Tom: “Yeah.”

Cheer: “Do I get to pick the restaurant?”

Tom: “Yeah. Anywhere you wanna go.”

Cheer: “Hah. Well, if I get to choose, I will get my extra money out of you anyway.”

Tom: “There ya go.”

Cheer: “Or you could just give me more money.”

Tom: “Or not.”

Cheer: “You really aren’t going to budge, are you?”

Tom: “No.”

Cheer: “Lemme think about it.”

Tom: “OK.”

For a multitude of reasons, including the impending doom of New York City insurance rates and the stress of owning a car in the city, Cheer agrees to sell to Tom for less than she had hoped, but ultimately feels good about it.

Cheer and Tom speak the following day and work out the details of transferring the car. This arrangement involves Cheer driving to Queens and meeting Tom at a branch of her bank at 10:30am. Cheer is not a morning person.

Cheer to bank teller: “Hi. I, uhhh, need to make a large cash deposit. How, ummm, do I go about doing that?”

Bank teller: “You’re adorable, and I’m going to smile and make you feel A-OK about your large cash deposit ignorance.”

Cheer: “Great, cause, unfortunately, I’m not well versed in this.”

Bank teller: “Just fill out a regular deposit slip and bring it back here with the money.”

Cheer: “Easy enough. Thanks.”

Cheer walks over to a nearby bank counter where Tom and Sedgwick are standing. She begins filling out the deposit slip. Tom pulls a large wad of cash from his pocket, and he and Sedgwick begin counting out the money to be given to Cheer.

Cheer: “Filling out deposit slip…do do do… Too fucking early. Need more coffee. Hmm hmm hmmm. That’s a lot of money being counted next to me. Yes. Yes. Yes.”

Tom: “1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. One. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. Two. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. Three…”

Sedgwick double checks Tom’s counting. They are precise and fast.

Cheer: “Money, money, money, money, moooooonnnneeeeey. Oh fuck.”

Tom: “What?”

Cheer: “Oh nothing. I just thought that that hundred had bloody fingerprints on it.”

Tom: “Nah.”

Cheer: “Yeah, I’m gonna go with ‘nah’ as well.”

Cheer begins counting the cash that Tom and Sedgwick have just counted out. Cheer is not fast, or precise in the morning.

Cheer: “I’m just gonna take a while counting and knock the piles of cash around with the sleeve of my jacket, okay?”

Tom: “That’s OK, take your time. But I do have an appointment.”

Cheer: “Right. I’ll just brush the piles into each other again as you are talking.”

Sedgwick: “She’s nervous.”

Tom: “It’s OK.”

Cheer: “I haven’t slept.”

Sedgwick: “OK.”

Cheer: “Yup. There goes the bloody fingerprint hundred. Right through my hands. I’ve got bloody fingerprint money all over my hands. I’m doing deals with drug dealers. Mafia. Mafia drug dealers.”

Tom: “All good?”

Cheer: “Yup.”

Cheer takes the wad of cash to the teller.

Cheer: “Hi, again. Can you please count this, verify it as valid currency, ignore the bloody fingerprints, and deposit it?”

Teller: “Yup, do it all the time, and yup.”

Cheer: “Woot.”

Teller: “Sign here.”

Cheer: “OK.”

Teller: “You’re all set. Here’s your deposit receipt.”

Cheer: “Thanks.”

Cheer signs over the title, and fills out bill of sale forms with Tom. She leaves the bank and drives her car for the last time. She follows Sedgwick’s brand new 7 series BMW into a parking garage a short distance away. She removes her California license plate and checks for belongings one last time. She gets in the beamer with Sedgwick and Tom, who drive her to a subway stop nearby.

In the beamer:

Tom: “So, when are you gonna get out of Harlem?”

Cheer: “As soon as it’s not fun to live there. You’re not a big fan of Harlem, huh?”

Tom: “No. There are a lot of…” Tom stops himself. “…African Americans over there, yeah?”

Cheer: “Heh. Yeah.”

Tom: “You’re probably the only one there that looks like you.”

Cheer: “One of a few.”

Tom: “So, what do you do?”

Cheer: “Well, currently, I’m unemployed.”

Tom: “OK. What did you do before?”

Cheer: “Most recently, I was waiting tables.”

Tom: “Huh.”

Cheer: “I wasn’t going to dare broach the subject, but since you brought it up, what is it that you do, Tom?”

Tom: “I’m in real estate and hair styling.”

Cheer: “Hair styling, huh?”

Tom: “Yeah.”

Cheer: “So, there’s a lot of cash in hair styling or is it the real estate?”

Tom: “Well, it’s both, but more the hair styling.”

Cheer: “Ah. Well, perhaps I’ll have to get into hair styling.”

The car arrives at the subway stop.

Tom: “It was a pleasure doing business with you. Thank you.”

Cheer shakes hands with Tom and Sedgwick.

Cheer: “You as well. You have my number. Let me know if you have any trouble registering it or anything.”

Tom: “Will do.”

Cheer gets out of the car.

Tom: “And, hey, I owe you dinner.”

Cheer: “Hah. Yes. You let me know about that.”

Cheer's Favorites, Other

NYC Parking Adventures with Cheer

1 Comment
Thursday, September 17, 2009:

8am
Cheer has slept only 2 hours. She slides off the edge of her bed to prepare for the 1.5 hour sit-in-her-car-doubled-parked-with-her-fellow-car-owning-neighbors-until-street-cleaning-ticketing-time-is-over process. She endures this whenever she forgets to move her car to the opposite side of the street the day before. In a very unbalanced manner, she gets into pants, shoes and a hoodie. She’s ready for the torture to begin.

8:10am
Cheer leaves her apartment and walks in a zombie-like manner one avenue east and one street north to where she left her car.

8:12am
Her walking slows and Cheer’s eyes open a little wider.
“Oh. Fuck.”
Her pace quickens as she scans the cars until she finds herself at the end of the block. “Oh….Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Cheer walks briskly up and down long avenues panicking, looking for her car, and hoping to find it before 8:30 – ticketing time for cars left on the to-be-cleaned side of the street.

Cheer’s inner monologue:
Where the fuck is my car? Where the fuck? My car. The fuck? I was sure I left my car there. Why? Oh. Shit. Why is it not there? Am I losing it? Did I really park it somewhere else and I don’t remember? My car is gone. My car was towed. No. There is no reason for it to have been towed. Perfectly legally parked. What the fuck. Oh fuck. Where the fuck is my car? Stolen. My car has been stolen. Oh fuck. Oh fuck? Maybe this is good. I was trying to sell it. Now it has been stolen so I’ll just get the money from my insurance. Fuck. What the fucking fuck. Pain in the ass. I’ve heard that takes months to process. And they’ll take my deductible. But, it could be good. This is bad. This is sooo bad. Where the fuck is my car? Stolen. Towed. Stolen.

8:50am
Cheer returns to her apartment and begins web-netting how to find a towed car. She finds the website and enters her license plate number. Nothing. Her car is not in the system. According to the city of New York, it hasn’t been towed. There are no current tickets associated with it.
“Fuck.”

9am
Cheer calls her local police precinct.
Cheer: “Hi, I think my car may have been stolen.”
Officer: “It was probably towed.”
Cheer: “It wasn’t found in the tow database online.”
Officer: “Well, if it was towed this morning, it might not be in that system yet. You have to call all these numbers of all the different places in the city that tow and ask them.”
Cheer: “And if I don’t locate it, then I can call you back and file a report for a stolen vehicle?”
Officer: “No. You can go down to where you left your car parked and then call 911 for an officer.”
Cheer: “So this system is complete bullshit and I can’t do the report over the phone?”
Officer: “Correct.”

9:05am
Cheer proceeds to call all 6 phone numbers to find her possibly towed car. Calls result in the following:

Call 1: We don’t tow cars from Harlem. We don’t have your car.
Call 2: Nope. Not in the system. We don’t have your car.
Call 3: We don’t tow from Harlem. No dice.
Call 4: This is the mayor’s office. You want the sheriff’s office.
Call 5: No answer and no machine at sheriff’s office.
Call 6: We don’t got it.
Call 7: You have reached a Verizon automated voice messaging system.

9:20am
Cheer calls local precinct back.
Cheer: “I wanted to double check the numbers you gave me because I was unable to get through to two of them.”
Cheer checks numbers with officer. They are “correct.”
Officer: “OK. You need to go to where you left your car and call 911.”
Cheer: “Can’t you just send an officer? Why do I have to call 911?”
Officer: “Yeah, I guess that would be reasonable. I’ll send someone. Go there now.”

9:22am
Cheer is on street corner, in the rain, on the coldest day since she’s arrived in NY. Wearing only a hoodie, she’s freezing. She waits.

9:25am
Cheer calls precinct.
Cheer: “It’s the stolen car girl again.”
Officer: “Oh, hi.”
Cheer: “ Just wanted to let you know I’m here and I’m wondering how long I’ll have to wait for an officer.”
Officer: “Oh, yeah, I tried to get in touch with someone to come meet you, but didn’t get anyone to respond. Sorry. You should just call 911.”
Cheer: “So glad you planned on telling me.”
Officer: “Meh. Whatevs.”

9:26am
Cheer calls 911 and is told an officer will be there shortly. She waits.

9:27-10:30am
Cheer waits. Rain. Cold. She waits. She watches 4 police cars drive through the intersection, but none are there for her. She even asks one officer while he’s stopped at the red light if he’s the one she’s been waiting for.
“I’m not the one. Just wait. Someone will come for you.”

10:30am
The officers sent for Cheer finally arrive. She explains her car search thus far.
Officer: “It wasn’t stolen.”
Cheer: “No?”
Officer: “It was probably towed. Is there glass on the ground?”
Cheer: “I didn’t look for glass.”
Officers get out of car and walk with Cheer to the area where her car was parked. No glass.
Officer: “It was most likely towed. I’ve been in this precinct for 5 years and he’s been here for 15 years and we’ve never had a car actually stolen. They just don’t do that around here. It was towed.”
Cheer: “That’s both comforting and disconcerting all at the same time.”
Officer: “Yeah. You’re not the first to naively believe her car was stolen.”
Cheer: “OK. So, if it was towed, why? It wasn’t parked illegally.”
Officer: “Yeeaah, that’s what you think.”
Cheer: “Huh?”
Officer: “It was, you’re an idiot, and your car was towed.”
Officer points to flyer-like sign taped to a gate: “Did ya see this sign?”

Cheer looks at flyer: “Uhh. No. No I did not.”
Officer: “Told ya! We were right, you were wrong. Neener neener. That’s where your car is. Good day.”
Cheer: “Uhhh, thanks?”

Cheer takes photo of sign for information and returns home.

11am
Cheer calls the number from the sign.
Recording: “You’ve reached blah blah blah. If your car has been towed and it’s the middle of the night, call 311.”
Cheer: “The fuck?”
Cheer hangs up and tries to find a website. That would be convenient and modern, so there is no website.
Cheer calls back and leaves a message, seeing as it is not the middle of the night.
Cheer calls 311.
311 Lady: “Hi, I’m the nicest and most helpful person you will talk to all day.”
Cheer: “Cool. I’m pretty sure my car was towed, but it’s not registered in the system online. I called a plethora of numbers given to me by my precinct, and none of them have any information on my car. I found a tow away sign where I was parked, so I believe it was towed the night before last. If that is the case, it should be in the system by now. And now I can’t get an answer from the number on the sign.”
311 Lady: “What kind of sign?”
Cheer: “A flyer-like sign that says there is going to be pavement milling in the middle of the night. There’s info for the project including an address and phone number, but I can’t get them on the phone.”
311 Lady: “Oh, it was for construction?”
Cheer: “Yeah.”
311 Lady: “Well then they didn’t tow it to a lot. They just moved it.”
Cheer: “Eh?”
311 Lady: “If the tow reason was construction, they don’t impound the car, they just move it to somewhere within a 10 block radius.”
Cheer: “Say whaaaaa? That’s some crazy shit.”
311 Lady: “I know.”
Cheer: “So, they came and towed my car, but just parked it somewhere else within 10 blocks?”
311 Lady: “Yup.”
Cheer: “In this neighborhood I’m surprised they’d find anywhere to move it!”
311 Lady: “Haha. I don’t know how they find a space either, but they do.”
Cheer: “So how do I find out where they re-parked it?”
311 Lady: “Your local precinct will have that information for you.”
Cheer: “OK. Thanks.”

11:15am
Cheer calls the local precinct once again.
Cheer: “Apparently my car was towed for pavement milling and the 311 lady told me that they just moved it to somewhere within a 10 block radius. Is she on crack?”
Officer: “No, she’s not. That’s what would happen.”
Cheer: “Why didn’t anyone mention this as a possibility before?!”
Officer: “Cause this is New York fucking City and we have better things to do than actually help you find your car.”
Cheer: “Fuck. OK, well, can you please tell me where my car was relocated?”
Officer: “If you come into the precinct with your license and registration we can get the information for you.”
Cheer: “You can’t give it to me over the phone?”
Officer: “No, that would be practical and wouldn’t waste everyone’s time.”
Cheer: “I see. Well, my registration is in my car, so I can’t bring it. Will you still be able to tell me where it is?”
Officer: “Do you know your plate number?”
Cheer: “Yes.”
Officer: “Then we can give you the info when you come in.”
Cheer: “Great.”

11:25am
Cheer walks 5 blocks to precinct. While she waits in line, she listens to the guy in front of her telling an officer why he’s there.

Guy: “My friend is trying to kill me.”
Officer: “Your friend? Why?”
Guy: “Well, my ex-friend, I mean, he was my friend. But now he’s crazy and trying to kill me.”
Officer: “OK, what happened?”
Guy: “He threw a rock at my head.”
Officer: “And you believe this was a murder attempt?”
Guy: “Well, I have epilepsy. He knows this and knows that if he were to hit me in the head just right it could induce a grand mal seizure and I would die.”
Officer: “OK. So, did you call 911?”
Guy: “No.”
Officer: “Why not?”
Guy: “Cause I didn’t want to rile him up…make things worse.”
Officer: “How’d that work out for ya?
Guy: “It still got worse.”
Officer: “Mmmm hmmm.”

Cheer is called up by another officer. She explains her car search.
Officer looks through a pile of pink papers looking for a report of her vehicle.
Officer: “There’s no record of it here. These are all the reports from today and it’s not here.”
Cheer: “I believe the car was towed on Tuesday. Would you please look at those papers?”
Officer: “Tuesday? It’s Thursday. You’re just now coming in? What the hell is wrong with you?”
Cheer: “I parked the car Tuesday afternoon and there was no street cleaning provoking me to move my car before this morning. Which is when I realized it wasn’t where I had parked it.”
Officer: “Riiiiight. One minute.”
Officer finds new stack of papers and locates Cheer’s car info and gives her an address 2 blocks away.
Cheer: “So, it’s possible that the car now has a ticket because of its new location and this morning’s street cleaning, huh?”
Officer: “Yeah. I suppose so.”
Cheer: “So…I’m just screwed?”
Officer: “Well, yes and no. First go see if the car is actually at this location. If it is, and there is a ticket, come back and we’ll give you a copy of this paper. Then maybe the court will dismiss your ticket.”
Cheer: “Right. Thanks.”

12pm
Cheer walks 2 blocks. She finds her car ticketless and beautiful. She re-parks closer to her apartment, and searches the street for hidden evil towing notices taped to gates like garage sale signs. None. She goes home and gets back in bed.
“I have got to sell that fucking car.”