100406- A joke

.....[I'm busy on another project and stuck for new ideas; here's a favorite story of mine that might actually be true. I've seen it repeated several times with slight changes in the specifics, which is the first sign of an urban legend, but I'm willing to bet that at some point someone else who read it would be motivated to actually carry it out. Enjoy.]

.....A young man checking out the newspaper classified section for used cars saw an ad that he had to read twice. It seemed like something was off or that he was not understanding it properly. The ad read, "Used Porsche, $5.00" and gave an address. That had to be a mistake or maybe a joke. The most likely explanation is that the decimal was in the wrong place and they wanted $500, not $5. But even if that was the case, and the car was a piece of junk, he might be able to sell the salvaged parts for more than that, and certainly for more than $5. And if it turned out to be a toy car or something along those lines, at least he would have a good story to tell his friends.

.....He rode his bicycle to the address, which was a well manicured home with a garage, and nervously approached the front door. Things looked a little too normal. Even as he rung the bell, he wondered if this was all just some prank being pulled on the resident of the house, and he was just the patsy who answered the ad. He was thinking of the best way to word an apology when the door opened and a pleasant-looking woman in her late forties asked, "Hello, can I help you?". The young man stammered, "Uhh... I, um, did you place an ad for a car?" The woman smiled, "Oh, yes, I did. Were you interested in buying it?" "Uhhr...yeah. Yeah, but, you see, the ad technically said-- I... I brought it with me here... somewhere... anyway, it said the car was $5. Now I don't know about legally what that--" She cut him off; "Yes, it's $5. Would you like to see it?" she asked. The young man was completely lost at this point. She didn't appear crazy. She certainly didn't look like a junkie desperate for cash or a thrill-killer luring naive bargain hunters to their doom. As long as he didn't sign anything or hand over any money, it seemed safe to go along with it all for the moment. "Well, yeah. Yeah, I'd like to see it.

.....The woman stepped out of the house, locked the door behind her and led the young man to the garage. She unlocked it, then pulled a remote out of her purse and opened the garage door. Inside, surrounded by the typical clutter many people have in their garages, was a red Porsche. It looked great, maybe a few years old. The tires seemed fine, the headlights intact, no visible rust or major scratches. Yet, the more that the young man saw of the car, the more he worried about what he must be missing. "The price does include the engine, doesn't it?" he asked. The woman laughed to herself. "Yes, of course. And I think there's a quarter tank of gas in it. You can take that, too. As is for $5. Why don't you drive it around?" she suggested. Try as he might, the young man couldn't think of a reason not to. "Sure. Let's go."

.....The seats squeaked slightly; the engine started readily and purred steadily. He eased down the driveway and past his bike on the lawn, turning down one street and then another. Once he knew that it turned left and right without incident, he tried the lights, the wipers and every standard feature he could think of. Since it was a residential street, the only thing he couldn't do was take it to maximum speed, but since (a) he didn't race cars for a living and (b) he opened the paper that morning expecting to get a ten-year-old Chevy, he wasn't too concerned about that. "Hell," he thought to himself, "if it turns out that the catch is a dead body in the trunk, I'll just dump it somewhere. For $5, there's too much right with this to care about what's wrong." He pulled back into the driveway and told the woman, "I'll take it. I can pay cash, right?" The woman chuckled. "Well, I sure don't take credit cards. Cash is fine. I'll go get the paperwork." Minutes later they were filling out everything needed to transfer ownership on the hood of the Porsche. He handed her a five dollar bill. "Thank you very much. Enjoy your new car." Once he had the keys, he grabbed his bike and nervously unlocked the trunk. No body. No room for the bike either. While he pondered whether to dismantle it or just leave it, he noticed the woman reentering the house. "Excuse me," he said, and put down the bike. After walking up to her door he said, "I'm sorry, but I just can't stand not knowing. I mean, I know I already paid for the car, I know we filled out all the paperwork and there's no going back and everything, but-- I just--" "You want to know why I sold the car for $5?" the woman asked. "Well, yeah I want to know why. I mean, whatever's wrong with it, it's gotta be worth more than that." "Oh, there isn't a thing wrong with it, as far as I know. In fact, my husband's 23-year-old secretary seemed to love it while he was seeing her behind my back. So when he ran off with her and left me a note to sell the house and car and send him all the money, I wanted to make sure it went to someone who would enjoy it as much as my mother's going to enjoy the house."