Remember how I posted a few weeks ago about the first kid who came to look at my Trans Am with his grandmother in tow? Back when I had it stickered at $16,500? And who then disappeared from the radar after failing to return my subsequent calls? He calls me today. Out of the blue. Says his cell phone died and what with the holidays, family and such he didn’t have time to do anything about it. Now that he’s got a new phone, he got all nineteen of his messages that have been piling up, heard the one I left him a while back, and called up.

He still wants the car. Begged me for it, even. Asked if there was any way I could sell it to him. Nearly crapped a brick when I said I had sold it for under $12,000 since I needed the cash fast. Said he would pay me way more than $12,000 if I sold it to him. But I already committed to that other guy, who’s already gotten the bank check from his credit union and already booked a flight down to Florida.

Oh yeah, I’d damn sure LOVE a couple extra thousand dollars. But I feel honor-bound not to fuck over the buyer who’s already made arrangements to come check it out and, ostensibly, pick it up.

Moments like this make you want to fall on your sword.