The Elusive Chrysler 300

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.