Everyone
remembers their first car. I personally
still own and drive mine. It is my first
and only car I have owned. It comes up
in videos and blog posts from time to time.
However, it wasn’t always supposed to be my first car. This post isn’t a review, it isn’t an
abandoned car, and it isn’t a tip or trick.
This is a story: the story of the elusive Chrysler 300 SRT8.
Back
in 2009, I was a junior in high school, and it was time for me to start looking
for my first car. I was a little
picky. I wanted something that looked
nice. It would be used obviously, but
something nice none the less, and it had to be American. I was mainly looking at Mustang’s and the
newer (at the time) Dodge Chargers. My price
range was obviously a higher mileage V6 version of either if I wanted the
current body style.
Things
changed when I came across some vehicles that were repossessed at a bank in the
next town over. Among them was a 2006
Chrysler 300 SRT8. It was very done
up. A very custom paint job, a custom
interior, custom exhaust, engine upgrades, and Lamborghini doors. While some of the upgrades were questionable
for a band geek white boy, I still fell in love with the car. The starting bid to get me in was $8000. I promptly put in my bid.
The
car was kind of “ghetto”, but it was bad ass.
There was damage to the exterior because apparently the previous owner
tried to hide it in tight spaces when he knew it was going to get
repossessed. It had dings on the paint
from driving, and the interior was kind of worn due to lower cost upgrades, but
I still wanted this car.
Now,
I had someone who knew someone at the bank, and he was feeding me information
about the car. Turns out there was only
one other person interested, and my bid remained the highest after only increasing
by a few hundred. This car was
mine. My friends at school knew it, my
family knew it, and so on.
The bids
increased though, and it eventually made it to my limit: $10,000. I had to save money for registration and
insurance, so against my wishes, I could not make the next bid to $10,500. I had to back out. It was very depressing, and that year for my
birthday, my mom had gotten me car cleaning stuff because I was supposed to be
getting that car. It was a depressing
birthday.
As time
went on, I managed to get the car I still own and drive today: my 2005 V6
Mustang. The Chrysler 300 SRT8 still
haunted me though. I would occasionally
see it driving down the highway, normally while I was at marching band
practice. One time while I was in a bus,
I saw it parked in a parking lot. What struck
me as odd was that it had used car dealer plates on it. This went on for over a year; seeing it here
and there. Finally, it happened.
I forgot
where I was going, but I do know it was to a place that I had never been
before, so I was in a part of New Jersey that I was unfamiliar with. I was on a long desolate road, but in the
distance I saw the rear of a car. I recognized
the paint job instantly. It was the
Chrysler 300 SRT8! I put all senses
aside and decided to chase it down.
When
I got to my first red light behind it, I didn’t think and jumped out of my car
and ran up to the 300. The windows were
almost limo tint (definitely illegal for New Jersey). I couldn’t see who was inside, but I knocked
on the window. It rolled down, and an
average looking “Jersey” man sat there. In
the passenger seat was a woman with basketballs for breasts. I spoke first and asked if the car was still
for sale. The man said it was and when I inquired how much, he said it was twenty-something grand. I said, “That’s a lot more than the ten grand
you paid for it!” Without hesitation, he
said right back to me, “I paid nine.”
I
was dumbfounded. How was this
possible? I had the higher bid. I bid ten thousand! The light turned green, so I ran back to my
car. I decided to follow him. I had no idea where I was, or where he was
even going, but I followed. We stopped
at a body shop. The man got out of the
car and made his way to mine. To avoid
him killing me, I quickly jumped out of my car and explained the story.
Turns
out he was the man that repossessed the car for the bank. I guess the bank wanted to assure he got the
car, even if it meant less money for them.
Who knows what the deal was, all I know was that I lost unfairly, and he
got the car. I was glad I finally knew
what happened to the car, but I wasn’t satisfied. I couldn’t end the chase. Not yet.
One of
the things with the car being at the bank was that I couldn’t test-drive
it. I wanted to know what this car was
like. I asked the man in front of me if
we could go for a ride. He agreed. He walked away, and in a short while returned,
and I hopped in the passenger seat. We chatted
a bit more, and then we were on another desolate, open, and lonely road. He stopped in the middle: a dead stop. I was nervous. What did I get myself in to? What was he going to do?
Finally after what seemed like an eternity, he pressed the brake down
fully, then mashed on the gas, and did the biggest burnout that I had ever been
in a vehicle for. The V8 screamed, the
tires wailed, and smoke filled the air with the sweet aroma of burning rubber. With a large smile on my face, I knew the
chase was over. I may not have gotten
the car, but I found out what happened. The
chase had come to an end, and the story was finished. The Chrysler 300 SRT8 had eluded me for over
a year, but I finally caught her, and I was able to close the book on the story
of the elusive Chrysler 300.
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