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I have a girlfriend. I love my girlfriend very much. My girlfriend lives with her family about an hour northwest of Philly. I live about half an hour northwest of DC, which puts me about two, two and a half hours away from her. This kind of sucks, but isn't really the point of the story.
Her parents recently bought a new car, to replace an old one of theirs, and didn't really have much use for the old one anymore. They were going to donate it, but my girlfriend made the timely suggestion to sell it to me instead.
Her motives are not entirely selfless; while she wants me to be able to drive to work and such, she also wants me to be able to drive up to her when she's at home and when she goes back to college in the fall.
The car is a 1998 Ford Windstar with nearly 122,000 miles on it, and her parents set a price of five hundred smackeroos. This is a steal, for me, as I had previously attempted to buy a used car but found that, without credit, it proved somewhat troublesome. I wasn't too thrilled about owning a van, but I was going on the principle that any car was better than no car.
My parents (I'm co-owning with my father for insurance purposes) drive me up to meet her parents (who own the car) Saturday morning and we go over to a notary where we do all the titling paperwork. The notary, btw, is incomparably faster than the DMV. I had no idea such services were offered at notaries.
We socialize for a bit afterwards. My parents drive home. I stick around for awhile to hang out with my girlfriend. Eventually she's got to go to work. I start the drive home in my very first car (which I had only driven twice before). The trip back is completely uneventful and I carry on with my day.
Later Saturday evening I head out with a friend to go get some ice cream and see if she's won the lottery (she just turned eighteen and decided to play the mega millions).
Stop at a stoplight. Light turns green. I begin to make a left turn. Lurch forward. Putter. Car stalls. I drift and steer towards the median so that I'm out of traffic, but don't quite make it to the grass. I am, however, nicely out of the way. Kind of. Sort of.
Try to start the car several times to no avail. The engine doesn't turn over at all. No lights, no radio, nothing. After about three hours of my brother, a random friend who showed up, some helpful cops, and AAA sending a tow truck, my new car and I get home.
A couple notes. While driving to the notary in Pennsylvania, it stalled out while I was parking. I started the car back up again and managed to finish parking. My girlfriend's parents explained that sometimes, in the heat and at very low RPMs, this car, and other Fords, sometimes stall. Okay.
Also, sometimes, when the engine was running but the car was not moving, the battery light would flash, and then go out as soon as I started to move.
These were probably warnings I shouldn't have ignored.
****.
Her parents recently bought a new car, to replace an old one of theirs, and didn't really have much use for the old one anymore. They were going to donate it, but my girlfriend made the timely suggestion to sell it to me instead.
Her motives are not entirely selfless; while she wants me to be able to drive to work and such, she also wants me to be able to drive up to her when she's at home and when she goes back to college in the fall.
The car is a 1998 Ford Windstar with nearly 122,000 miles on it, and her parents set a price of five hundred smackeroos. This is a steal, for me, as I had previously attempted to buy a used car but found that, without credit, it proved somewhat troublesome. I wasn't too thrilled about owning a van, but I was going on the principle that any car was better than no car.
My parents (I'm co-owning with my father for insurance purposes) drive me up to meet her parents (who own the car) Saturday morning and we go over to a notary where we do all the titling paperwork. The notary, btw, is incomparably faster than the DMV. I had no idea such services were offered at notaries.
We socialize for a bit afterwards. My parents drive home. I stick around for awhile to hang out with my girlfriend. Eventually she's got to go to work. I start the drive home in my very first car (which I had only driven twice before). The trip back is completely uneventful and I carry on with my day.
Later Saturday evening I head out with a friend to go get some ice cream and see if she's won the lottery (she just turned eighteen and decided to play the mega millions).
Stop at a stoplight. Light turns green. I begin to make a left turn. Lurch forward. Putter. Car stalls. I drift and steer towards the median so that I'm out of traffic, but don't quite make it to the grass. I am, however, nicely out of the way. Kind of. Sort of.
Try to start the car several times to no avail. The engine doesn't turn over at all. No lights, no radio, nothing. After about three hours of my brother, a random friend who showed up, some helpful cops, and AAA sending a tow truck, my new car and I get home.
A couple notes. While driving to the notary in Pennsylvania, it stalled out while I was parking. I started the car back up again and managed to finish parking. My girlfriend's parents explained that sometimes, in the heat and at very low RPMs, this car, and other Fords, sometimes stall. Okay.
Also, sometimes, when the engine was running but the car was not moving, the battery light would flash, and then go out as soon as I started to move.
These were probably warnings I shouldn't have ignored.
****.
A minivan? 
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