“I did it.” I was practically bouncing as Dylan came in the following Saturday morning. “I got my car money.”
“Awesome.” Dylan put down his toolbox and hung his jacket on the coat rack. “How’d you do it?”
“Credit cards. Just like you said.”
Dylan’s excitement dropped, and his eyes narrowed. “I’ll let you explain what you mean while I take a look at that leaky toilet of yours.” He’d noticed the constant hissing coming out of my bathroom the previous week and promised to fix it the next time he came over.
“It’s just a drip,” I said as I followed Dylan and his massive toolbox to the bathroom. “It’s no big deal.”
“The toilet is your number one water guzzler. Even a small leak can cost you over a hundred gallons of water a day.” He put his toolbox down next to the toilet. Despite my calling it just a small drip, there was no denying that the hiss of the tank was almost constant. “You must have noticed that your water bills were astronomical.”
“Um…” I never looked at my bills. They were auto-deducted from my account each month. Even if I’d seen them, I doubt I would have detected anything wrong. It’s not like I knew the size of the average water bill. “Is this another of your metaphors about debt?”
Dylan ignored the question. He removed the top of the toilet tank and flushed the toilet, watching for who knows what. “Tell me about this credit card business.”
“Well, I’ve been signing up for cards like mad, just like you told me to. I got that one with the zero balance transfer fee and zero interest for twelve months, so other than paying the monthly minimum, I don’t have to worry about that massive balance. Another card came with a $200 sign-up bonus, 2% rewards, and no interest for nine months. I’ve got a $10,000 limit on that card. So there’s my car money.”
“Careful now, Amber. Credit is a dangerous game.” Dylan pulled out a wrench. “How expensive a car are you thinking of buying?”
“Really, I could use the whole $10,000 and still come out way ahead of the lease terms I’d get.”
“Don’t let an unused credit line confuse you into thinking you have more money than you do.” Dylan rubbed his fingers together. “How much cash do you have in the bank?”
“Well, now that I don’t have to worry about paying back my outstanding balance, after my next paycheck, I should have about $2000.”
“Bear in mind, even that $2000 is not yours. It’s still money you owe.” Dylan leaned over the tank. “But I think you should be able to spend that much and still be OK.”
“You’re not suggesting I buy a car for only $2000?” I sat at the edge of the tub. “That’s insane. I can’t get anything for that amount.”
“Have you looked?”
“Not at that price. I was looking in the $10,000 range. Would that be so bad?” I leaned in to watch Dylan work.
“Do you have a rag or something? This could get messy.”
“Yeah, sure.” I went into the linen closet, brought out a pile of old rags, and dropped one next to the toilet.
“For $10,000, you can get a great, reliable car.” Dylan turned off the water and started detaching parts of my toilet. “It’s the same cost as the lease, but unlike with the lease, you’ll still have value left after three years, probably about $5000 worth. The problem is that for the next year, you’ll be making payments even higher than your lease payments. That’s a killer if you want to build a financial runway.”
“What’s a financial runway?”
“It’s the amount of time you could go without income and still be OK.” Dylan pulled a beige thing-a-ma-bob out of the tank and placed it on the rag.
“Why would I go without income.”
“You could be fired. The teacher’s union could go on strike. Who knows. More importantly, once you have a solid runway, you can afford to take risks.”
“What kind of risks?”
“All kinds. Investments. Changing jobs. Starting a business. You never know when an amazing opportunity will come your way, but if you’re living paycheck to paycheck, you might not be able to float yourself long enough to take it.”
“How much runway do I need?”
“I think anyone who doesn’t have access to three months’ worth of expenses is crazy.” Dylan grunted as he worked out a black thing stuck in the tank. “I prefer to have a full year. That’s when you get the flexibility to take some real chances.”
“I need a year’s worth of money in the bank, just sitting there?”
“It doesn’t have to just sit, but it needs to be easily accessible. I have very little in the bank. I put almost all my money into my properties. But I also have a line of credit that allows me access to over a year’s worth of living costs in a matter of moments.” Dylan jerked back and pulled out a thick black ring with cracks along the edges. “Here’s your problem.”
“That little thing?”
“Little? This is what seals the entire toilet.” Dylan dropped it in front of me. It smelled pretty rank, but out of politeness, I didn’t pinch my nose. “Thousands of gallons of water are seeping through those little cracks every month.”
“This is another metaphor, isn’t it? You’re telling me I have to seal up the cracks in my financial foundation, aren’t you?”
“Must you always think like an English teacher?”
“You’re just going to have to take me as I am.” I picked up the cracked toilet seal. “So to get this runway going, you want me to buy a car for only $2000?”
“You’re free to do what you want, but that’s my advice.”
“Am I going to have to push this thing uphill?”
“Not if you buy it smart.”
“Like how?”
Dylan shrugged. “Do I have a car?”
“Are you freaking kidding me?”
“We need a new ring. We can discuss it on the way to the hardware store.” He washed his hands, dried them on a clean rag, and headed toward the door.
“Wait!” I ran after him. “You come across as Mr. Expert telling me I can do this, and you don’t even know yourself?”
“I could guess.” He put on his jacket and pulled my keys off their hook. “Are you driving, or am I?”
“Gimme those.” I grabbed my keys out of his hand. “It’s my car, and as long as I still have a decent car to drive, I’ll drive it myself.”
Once we were on the road, I said, “If you can’t help me, I might as well go to a dealer. At least they can tell me what my options are.”
“No, they can tell you what their options are. They’re looking out for their interests, not yours.”
“One of the ways they look out for their interests is by providing good service. You can’t go through life thinking everyone is out to get you. You said the same thing about the credit card companies.”
“You were awfully giddy this morning about your credit card results.”
I gripped the wheel tighter. “But you admit you don’t know anything about cars.”
“Look, Amber, I’m not saying you shouldn’t buy from a dealer any more than I’m saying you shouldn’t carry a credit card. Just don’t depend upon a dealer for your education, because they’ll always pitch you the cars they have, whether they’re the best fit for you or not.”
“So how else am I supposed to learn this stuff?”
Dylan sighed. “Turn onto Oak, and pull up at Jensen’s Hardware.”
Dylan jumped out as soon as I pulled in. I thought to follow, but I’d barely turned off the car when Dylan came running back out, toilet ring in hand. When we were back on the road, he said, “Let’s say Kyle calls you up one day and tells you his firm is desperate. They’ve got a major client they’re pitching, and due to a computer crash, they’ve lost all the research they need for a presentation. Worse, one of their paralegals is getting married that day, and virtually the entire staff is at the wedding. He’s about to go to dinner with the client and needs to make the presentation in two hours. The research will be mind-numbingly boring, but he knows you can do it. He’s so desperate that he’s willing to pay you $1000 an hour to get it done. Would you do it?”
“For $1000 an hour? Hell yeah.”
“Good. Then when we get back, I’ll finish fixing the toilet while you research how to buy a great used car dirt cheap. I promise you that by the time I’m done, you’ll have figured out how to save yourself at least $1000.”
A half-hour later, Dylan flushed the toilet. It hissed as the tank refilled, and then the hissing came to a complete stop. I’d gotten so used to the toilet hissing that I’d tuned it out, but I much preferred the peaceful silence. Dylan came into the kitchen, where I sat at the counter with my laptop. I prepared to share with him what I’d found, but he just walked past me and started pulling stuff out from the fridge and pantry. This was his way of telling me to keep at it while he took care of lunch. So I kept reading the blog post I was on, for almost an entire minute. Then I closed my laptop and went to join him. Dylan was a hell of a lot more competent in the kitchen than Libby, but I still didn’t like the way he hacked away at my vegetables. I pulled a chef’s knife out of the drawer. “I’ll chop,” I said. “You’re making a green salad?”
“Unless there’s something more exotic you’d like. But I don’t mind cooking. You’ve made me two meals in a row now.”
“That’s sweet.” I bumped him aside. “Why don’t you make panini to go with the salad. You’ll find bread in that drawer over there and take what you want from the fridge to put inside. In the third drawer below the cutlery, you’ll find the sandwich maker.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be doing research?”
“I did.” The research had been shockingly easy. Yet, without Dylan urging me, I probably would’ve just gone to a dealer without bothering. “I Googled how to buy a cheap, reliable, used car, and in no time, I found dozens of blog posts telling me what to look for. I stopped reading when I found the same suggestions coming up over and over.”
Dylan pulled the leftover pecorino, a box of arugula, and a portobello mushroom out of the fridge. ”What’d you learn about cars?”
“First, some brands are made to last longer than others.”
“Like Honda and Toyota?”
“Yes, though those brands have such a reputation for reliability that they don’t depreciate as fast. Other Japanese brands like Mazda, Nissan, and Subaru also have great track records, but their prices drop faster.”
Dylan sliced a baguette. “What else did you get?”
“10 years and 100,000 miles.”
“You want to stay under those numbers?”
“No, but so many buyers aim to stay under 10 years and 100,000 miles that cars over those numbers plummet in price.” I diced a pair of cucumbers and slipped them into the salad bowl. “Apparently, good cars can easily do 15 years and 200,000 miles these days. I searched on Craigslist and found plenty of cars in my price range that fit those criteria.”
“You searched for cars up to $2000?” He gently buttered the bread.
“$3000. That’s another point I kept reading over and over. I should plan on negotiating, especially if I’m paying cash. So there’s a decent chance that someone advertising for three will take my two if it’s in greenbacks.”
“Nice.” He thinly sliced the mushrooms and layered them onto the bread. “So you’re all set to start looking at cars?”
“No, I found several articles on the more technical aspects of how to inspect a car. Those will take a little longer to go through.” I squeezed a lime into the salad.
“If you want, we can go through those together while we eat.” He closed the sandwich maker and pressed down. “Have you gotten your $1000 worth yet?”
“I got more than that from the first article. It’s a crazy thing. When you told me to do the research, I knew just what to do. But had I been shopping for a car on my own, I would’ve skipped that step.”
“I’ve found that to be one of the most powerful lessons in building my Cash Machine. Ignorance isn’t cheap. As Marie Forleo says, ‘Everything is Figureoutable.’ I can’t count how many times an hour of research has saved me from making a colossal mistake.”
The next Sunday, I pulled up at Dylan’s place at 7 am. “I thought you liked to sleep in on weekends?” he said as he answered the door.
“No choice, today’s the day. My car lease is up this week, so either I’m replacing it today, or the dealer will most likely talk me into getting a new car when I return this one.”
“What’s the plan?”
I handed him an envelope. “You get to be my big strapping bodyguard and protect the cash.”
He peeked into the envelope. “How much is here?”
“$2000.” A grin forced its way into my cheeks. “I’ve been pulling cash out of the ATM all week.”
A morning chill blew into the apartment, and Dylan threw on a pullover. “Where are we going?”
“I’ve set up appointments to see ten cars today.”
“Great.” He closed the front door behind him. “I know how you ladies get when you shop. You’ll probably buy five of them.”
“You shut up and guard the money.” I slapped his chest. “Just remember that you’re the muscle and leave the negotiating to me.”
“Well, well. Look who found her confidence.”
“I must have read thirty articles on buying a used car,” I said as I got into the driver’s seat, “and skimmed 400 car listings before narrowing it down to these ten. I’m ready to go.”
Dylan buckled in and sat with his hands on his lap like a schoolboy. “What’s stop number one, Miss Romano?”
“You keep this attitude up, little Dylan, and I might not let you out of the car to see the 12-year-old Mazda 3 I’ve got lined up. And you’d miss out because it’s cherry red.”
“I promise to be good,” Dylan said. “How many miles does it have on it?”
“154,000.”
“That’s no spring chicken. What’s the price?”
“$2800. The owner told me three times on the phone that the price was negotiable. He sounded desperate for someone to make him an offer.”
“She’s a beauty, ain’t she?” The owner slid his hands over the curve of the hood, but his eyes watched Dylan.
I cleared my throat. “He.”
“What’s that?”
“Guys always call their cars she, like they’re buying themselves some surrogate girlfriend, which I guess is not so far from the truth. But this one’s going to be mine, so it’s a he.”
Dylan started at this. “You looking for a surrogate boyfriend?”
“Shut up and guard the money.”
The owner approached me, and the stench of his cologne left me gasping for oxygen. “Then he’s a beauty. Happy?”
I ran my fingers along the hood. The car did have a flawless paint job. “He shines in the sun; I’ll give you that much.”
“How about taking him for a ride?”
I circled around to the side to get a better look at the tires. I slipped a penny into the tread, with Lincoln’s head facing down, just like I’d read online. Then I reached in to do it again further back. “I’m thinking not. Like many older men, this one’s starting to bald.”
Dylan nodded his head slowly as if to say, damn, girl. I felt good to be the knowledgeable one for a change.
The owner ran a hand through his thinning hair. “There’s still some tread on the tires.”
“Now, don’t get me wrong.” I backed away from the car. “A well-groomed bald man can still be dignified. Yet, this particular gentleman is only balding on one side. That’s not just age. It’s neglect.”
“What?”
“You have uneven tire wear. That could mean your alignment’s off or worse.” I shook my head. “At the very least, it means she was poorly maintained.”
“I thought it was a he?” The owner crossed his arms.
“Not anymore.” I winked at him. “I’m going to let you keep this girl all to yourself.”
“I can go down to $2200.”
“Sorry,” I said, “but I don’t intervene in abusive relationships.”
He licked his lips. “$2000.”
I sucked in my breath and took another look at the candy red coat. This guy might have skipped a few tune-ups, but there was no question he kept it well waxed. “There’s no way I’d take this car without an inspection, but for $2000, I’ll at least take him for a test drive.”
“This is exhausting.” I sank into the seat of my own car, and a quick look at the clock told me it was three in the afternoon. We’d already looked at six vehicles. I was relieved when two owners called to say their cars had already been sold before I got there—the fewer choices I had to process, the better.
“You’re doing great, Amber.” Dylan opened a bag of grapes he’d bought while I filled up the car.
“I was doing great in the beginning, but now they’re all starting to blur together.” I grabbed a few grapes and popped one in my mouth. “Let’s face it, Dylan, any car in my price range is bound to have problems.”
“All we need is something serviceable. What’s next?”
I turned left onto a small residential road. “Honda Civic, 9-years-old, 122,000 miles.”
“That’s in your price range?”
“$2400.”
“Why so cheap? You said Hondas maintain their value.”
We pulled into a driveway next to a grey civic with a large dent on the rear passenger side door. “That’s why.” A tiny strip of rust outlined the dent.
“You knew about this?”
“It didn’t look so bad on the pictures.” I set the car into reverse. “I think we should just keep driving.”
“Too late. The owner spotted us. We have to at least get out and say hello.”
I parked the car and forced a smile.
An older man in a cardigan came out of the house. “Hi there, you must be Amber. My name’s Joseph, and this is my wife, Meg.” Meg stepped out, carrying two glasses of water. “This was Meg’s car, but one of our daughters just got a new car from her work, so she’s passing her old car onto Meg. I’ve got all the maintenance records right here. As you can see, we’ve had the oil changed every three thousand miles. We did a major tune-up and replaced the tires just over a year ago.”
“How often do you rotate the tires?” I asked.
“Once every six months.”
“Any mechanical issues?” I was so hoping he’d say yes.
“None.” He smiled at the car with a glint of nostalgia. “Runs like a dream. The only issue was a minor accident two years ago. But we had it checked out, and the damage doesn’t impact the safety of the car, or it’s driving at all. The biggest downside is that the dented door no longer opens, but since we could access the back seat from the other side on the rare occasions we need it, it didn’t make sense to invest the money fixing it up.”
To me, the biggest downside was that the dent made the car an eye-sore, but I didn’t say so. “You’re the only owners?”
“Oh, yes. I bought it for Meg as a thirtieth-anniversary present.” He took the keys out of his pocket and held them out to me. “Would you like to take it for a drive?”
With the other cars I’d looked at, the owner always came along for the test drive, but Joseph trusted us to go out without him. That gave me a chance to do something I’d been dying to try all day. I drove it slowly around the corner and out of sight. “Hold on,” I said to Dylan. I floored the car, taking it to thirty, forty, fifty miles an hour, then slammed on the brakes.
“Whoa, girl. Where’d you learn to drive?”
“In the Walmart parking lot, but that maneuver I picked up from a blog post. It tests the acceleration and the brakes.”
“Both seemed smooth. Let’s face it. This car’s in great shape.”
“Mechanically, yes. But what about the door?”
“That’s the best part.” Dylan put a hand on my shoulder. “It’s pre-dented.”
“Pre-dented is supposed to be a good thing?”
“Absolutely. What would happen to your current car if you dented it before turning it back into the dealer?”
“They’d slap me with a huge fine.”
“Of course, because a dented car has a much lower resale value. These guys already dented this little Honda. They’ve taken all that depreciation already. You could get into another accident in this thing, and, as long as it still drives well, it would hardly depreciate at all.”
In theory, Dylan was right. At least five of the blog posts I’d read over the past week talked about the major bargains you can get on cars with cosmetic damage. But this was going to be my car, perhaps for years. “I keep thinking about that red Mazda we saw this morning.” I handed my phone to Dylan. “Look.”
“You took a selfie with it?”
“Stupid, huh?”
“That car’s got trouble written all over it. From what you told me, this one could probably do another 75,000 miles without any serious mechanical trouble.”
I nodded. But as I turned the car back toward Meg and Joseph’s street, my insides tightened. Changing my credit cards was easy. Following Dylan’s advice saved me a ton of money with no downside (other than the fact that my old card had my college logo on it). This situation felt different. I’d be driving an older, dented car that was so-not-my-color. Or I could walk into a nice dealership, where they’d serve me a cappuccino and lease me whatever I wanted at an affordable monthly rate. It was obvious which choice I was more comfortable with, but I looked over at Dylan and knew that this ugly, dented Honda would lead me on the path to building a Cash Machine, the path toward a life with this guy.
I held those soft eyes of his. I’d never known anyone so sincere, so without pretension. More than anything, what I wanted at this point in my life was to find a good man. Dylan was nothing like what I pictured, but there was no question he was a good man. The kind of man I could build a future with. “Let’s go back and see what kind of deal we can get on this.”
“Your car drives well,” I said to Joseph and Meg. “I’d like to offer you $1900, contingent on it passing inspection.”
“Well, we did leave a little wiggle room in the price,” Joseph said, “but I’m afraid $1900 is too low for us. We’d be willing to drop to $2200.”
I hated this part, negotiating with a sweet, elderly couple. I looked over at Dylan, and he gave me a reassuring nod. “I’m sorry. It’s a great car, but that’s still a bit above my budget.”
“What is your budget?”
“$2000.”
“That’s mighty low.” Joseph hesitated. “How would you be paying for this?”
“Dylan, show them what we’ve got.”
Dylan pulled out the envelope and fanned out the twenty hundred-dollar bills.
“Deal.”
An hour later, we received a clean bill of health from the mechanic. “We should celebrate,” Dylan said.
“You got it.” I folded the paperwork from the mechanic into the car’s user manual. “But I want to make one stop first.”
“Where?”
“The dealership. It’s time to turn in my leased car.”
“Don’t you have until Wednesday?”
“Yep, and if that car gets so much as a scratch between now and Wednesday, I’m going to go insane. I’m not taking any chances now that I’ve got a new set of wheels.” I tossed a set of keys to Dylan. “You drive the ugly, dented Honda. I’ll drive my old car this one last time.”
