If you’ve been reading this blog for some time, you’ll remember I previously referred to attempting book tours using our RV. In October, 2015, I wrote of the breakdown of the Forest River Windsong stranding us first in Bullhead City AZ then Las Vegas NV. Findlay’s in Las Vegas hit us for numerous parts and labor, including a new radiator, then dusted their hands of it. You may have wondered what happened with the situation and whether or not we sold the motorhome. You won’t believe the story. You can’t make this stuff up.
The Foothills area of Yuma AZ is an absolute delight and this is where hubby decided the RV was going. Yuma is a “winter visitor” paradise. We made it to Yuma.
Said hubby then decided he needed a job to pay for all the debt the MoHo incurred and obtained his CDL by March 2015. Within a week, he was gainfully employed by a trucking firm out of Phoenix. We drove the RV to Goodyear, secured an RV spot and off he went. As sure as April follows March and summer follows spring, temperatures in an RV can climb faster than rabbits in heat. Time to sell.
Craig’s List almost immediately began returning inquiries of interest and quickly became scary. With the main man gone and my enthusiasm to try to show the aging behemoth waning, I yanked the ad and began looking at alternative ideas. It was obvious I’d need to be out of the unit, and the RV was still mechanically challenged.
One of the park employees agreed to drive it to an RV consignment dealer in Mesa after I found an apartment. It was the first week of July and hot by 7 am. Instead of trying to sell it, however, the dealer determined he must first solve the temp problem and spent the 3 months on consignment performing repairs, quickly mounting to another grand.
The situation was becoming desperate with the consignment period ending and the dealer pushing for money. On Monday, I determined it was time to go back to the park and see if (1), they ever needed rentals, or (2) would they allow me to store it in their space at the back of the park. Short answer: no.
The helpful lady behind the counter, however, took a description of the RV, my asking price, and my phone number. By Thursday I had a call of interest. Shazam! What could go wrong?
The “buyer” (we’ll call him “Sam”) said he would check it out and have “his mechanic” look at it on Tuesday. But Sam looked at it immediately and called again to negotiate price–absolute bottom–“what will you take“? (I cut my price) By Sunday, another call. He was ready to go get it, “had the cash,” was ready to purchase, and wanted to do the deal on Monday morning. He’d call by 10. After 11, Sam called that his mechanic had looked it over and he was ready.
During the drive to Mesa, I had two calls from Sam’s wife. Arriving, I gave her my file and a “Bill of Sale,” thinking she’d sign and hand to Sam. The manager of the company produced my ownership certificate and we became engaged in a discussion of where to sign off (an out of state pink slip). In the meantime, the fella who was hanging back (assumed to be “the mechanic“) began counting out money to Sam, who then counted money to me. (The woman explained on the phone they had come up just a little short (??) and he would be loaning them the difference so I could have my money.) I counted money to the dealer.
The couple then made a fast exit, leaving the “the mechanic” who explained he was getting a tow truck. (Huh?) Taking it out to the parking lot, a discussion ensued regarding the couple. “The mechanic” had purchased the unit, not the couple. He thought they were my friends; I thought his. They’d explained to him it was their unit but I held the ownership certificate! We took the discussion to the consignment dealer who told us Sam talked to him after he’d called me. Sam had immediately driven to Mesa where he looked it over, took pictures, and then told the dealer he’d bring his mechanic to see it.
Bottom line; the real buyer paid the original asking price, but it didn’t all go to me. The intervening couple pocketed the difference–several thousand dollars. Who gave them my number? ©2016 Virginia Williams