On the End of an Era - Part 1
I sold The Golden Beauty today.
See the money shot featured below.
Now I no longer own a sedan built in the 1990s. I don't know who I am anymore.
I sold her in a private party transaction. I went to a sketchy part of town tonight and met the prospective purchaser (and, of course, potential thief or murderer) at a warehouse where he told me to go on the phone after dark to receive the payment, exchange paperwork, and otherwise close the deal. He paid me in cash. I went to the meeting by myself. This violated (egregiously) my policy of limiting my exposure to potentially life-threatening situations in the interest of achieving one of my life-time goals (meeting my great-grandchildren).
But he seemed trustworthy. So I trusted my judgment.
And it worked out just fine.
I was amused at my anxiety (as described above) because just as we were leaving his shop for him to drive me back to my office after the transaction so I could eventually get home, his father showed up (he and his father run an auto mechanic's shop) just to make sure that I wasn't killing him and stealing the money he brought to the closing.
He told me that he thought I seemed trustworthy and that he decided to trust his judgment.
And it worked out just fine for him too.
See, life is awesome.