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Cooter sells a bike

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Cooter

Well-known member
Joined
Dec 1, 2012
Messages
11,040
Location
Crawling up your skirt
Lord help me from murdering my fellow humans today... Ignore this rant but I MUST let it out or you'll be reading about me on the news, and I don't mean NPR.
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"Free things always cost you the most"
Cooter

I got realistic about my garage problem and posted a few things for sale. One of which is a complete piece of ****, old, beat up, not-registered-for-a-decade, ex-wanna-be racer GSXR-750. From 1989. You remember 1989? I'm old now and had JUST graduated HS for Christ sakes, and this thing has been passed around the prison yard since I was spotting beers at the 7-11. Why not spray paint the whole engine silver from 5 feet away? Day-Glo flames? Mis-spelled "Susuki" in ****ty Mandarin? I can't even...

I mean at least $100 in zip ties have died on this bike. Weld the subframe to the frame? Of course! The "why" doesn't matter. I mean there isn't ONE thing thats nice on this turd and it should be put out of its sorry misery in trash compactor 3263827 on the detention level of the Death Star.
But it runs... ****.

The short backstory of this space hogging dream killer is that with all my then-youthful ignorance, I got it from a friend of a friend for the princely sum of zilch, zero, nada. And it was worth less than that. Years after that day, the only action this thing has seen is when another good friend brought over his Katana with a death rattle rod knock and the only decent way home was to quickly dash some fuel and a battery this dusty pile from the corner to get him home that night. I gave him the pink slip to avoid any law enforcement issues his third-strike ass may have with expired plates and the strict instructions I didn't want to see it again.
Fast forward another half decade and he wants it out of his garage, where it has sat. since the day he left my shop.

Sigh.

Air up the cobwebbed tires, slosh some fresh fuel to mix with the varnish, and wouldn't ya know it? That ****er still idles and runs perfectly. Don't you DARE give me hope you sonofabitch! Well age and 'maturity' prevails as I make the right choice to be free of this succumbent for good. Open Craigslist, post ad:

"Hey Vanilla Ice, come get your bike.

I've had it for awhile, but I'm a mechanic (a good one) so I just checked it out and it didn't take much to get it running. It's beat to **** with a salvage title but brakes and suspension seem to work well. It's got a Fox racing shock in the rear for track day bragging rights too.
I drained the tank, oil, and carbs, to store it but have had second thoughts. I have a video of it running but bring gas, oil, and a battery if you want to hear it in person, otherwise get this crap out of my garage for cheap.
It needs to be towed and needs a bunch of work to be road warrior ready. You aren't riding it home but I can deliver for a fair fee. The pics don't do it justice, it is MUCH more ****ty to behold in person. Bring sunglasses, and a satchel to collect the panties.
I don’t care if you need it for parts or want to try and get it on the road, but if you shave 80’s stripes in your hair I’ll give you $100 off. Seriously "

No **** I got 13 responses within a half hour. Thirteen! I explained the situation and still had to add:
"EDIT:
I’m getting a TON of interest and if the ad isn’t clear enough... this bike is complete, does run, and is beat to ****.
I would NOT try to ride it without a bunch of work! Reg is many many years old and you aren’t gonna fill it with gas and start trackdays or get to work dependably. It need a LOT of love to be safe and dependable and frankly should just be used for parts. I know it’s cheap. I know it’s sexy. There’s no better definition than Caveat Emptor."
 
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"Hey man, I want to buy the bike"
Ok, cool. Are you bringing a truck? Or a helmet?
"A helmet"
Then you didn't read the ****ing ad:mad-new:

Seriously. It's not worth the $700 i'm asking. I expected someone to do the 'offer-half' BS (and I would take it), but nooooo! Instead of the usual first come first offer I'm pretty fair about, I give up and tell ALL thirteen people to meet me on the roof of the shop (parking lot) at 9am on a Saturday. Keep in mind, I'm usually not even done with my coffee by 9am on a Saturday so you can imagine my mood as I load up the bike in the back of Josephine Dirté and head to the shop.
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Where I sat. Fielding messages. For 2 hours. Not ONE single asshole showed up.
At least we have a Pickleball court there now so if watching old guys get sweaty is your thing then good on ya. Me? I'm more of a PornHub guy. But I digress.
One guy had the starter in his truck fail,
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another ended up in Riverside because he couldn't find Los Angeles International Airport (?!), one bought a Mercedes instead, and a mom died.
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Well actually a Mother-in-law so "no biggie":upset:
 
Thankfully fast forward to me getting smart and heading back home.
But first appointment, broken truck guy, still wants the bike, and BAD.
"Let me know when you're there and I'll meet you" starts the most ridiculous turn of events. I can't. I just can't... Brackets are my interjections.
He's coming from Chatsworth and for a normal person it is about 40 mins north right up the freeway from me.

8:20am him
"I'm on the way now bro! I will definitely buy the bike."
me: We'll see. She's beat
an HOUR and a half later...
9:43 him
"I'm on the way. My starter is going out on my truck, I'm hitting it with a hammer and it started, WHEW! I'm coming fast!
ME: Are you sure you shouldn't buy a starter with that money instead of a project bike? LOL.
[30 more mins]
10:34 ME: You close? Been here for an hour and a half and I'm starving
him: I'm close. Grab something to eat. I should arrive when you get back.[which means he ain't close at all].
me:Like 2 mins? 20 mins? Whats your GPS say?
[ten long minutes]
10:43 him
"Like 28 mins" [which means he barely left home.]
me: OK msg me when you get here.
an HOUR later...
11:39am me: And? Dude, you OK?
another half hour
12:08pm him
"oh man!! I have to get a tow now [why'd ya stop?] my GF is racing down to pick me up right now!! and we'l be there ASAP! I'm 10 mins away and she'll be here any minute!!...
[I purposely waited 20 mins]
me: Actually I have it loaded up and it has to get in your truck anyway so... where exactly are you? I'll come there.
[over another HOUR later]
1:51pm him
"We're on the PCH. I have a friend working on it..." [huh? PCH from Chatsworth???]
me: I'll just hang out
[another HOUR and a half]
3:21pm him
"almost there"
me: [over it] ok
3:43pm him "bout ten minutes away"
[I purposely waited 15 mins]
3:56pm me: Ok
4:00pm him "we have arrived. Silver Volvo".
Me: Volvo truck? [how are you getting the bike home?] I'm on the roof/parking lot, entrance around the corner.

Now, keep in mind I walked to the edge of the lot and can see him now. It's 4pm. Not 9am. Daddy needs a beerski.
[five long minutes]
4:05pm him "oh ya we just parked"
[five long minutes]
4:10pm me: You coming up?
[five long minutes]
4:15pm him "Yes, how do we get there?"
me: copy/paste... I'm on the roof/parking lot, entrance around the corner.
[five long minutes]
4:21pm him "got it"
 
Now some of you may be thinking I'm too nice:love_heart: When actually I'm just a dumbass and a glutton for punishment:crushed: I don't really need to sell this thing. I could scrap it at Pick-a-Part and spend the $23 recycling check on cheap whisky like I've done before, but at this point I just want to meet these people to find out what in the actual **** is going on. Call me a student of humanity.

The girlfriend is quick to apologize that she's the whole reason they're so late [:confused:] and I get an interesting one way conversation about guitars and astrology, but finally have to interject the nonstop diatribe to remind him why he's here in the first place.

Oh ya. It takes money to buy things.

Dude:apathy:

I manage to trade a couple hundred dollars for a deposit note and strict instructions if I don't see him in a week, I'm going to sell it again (happily) to someone else, just like him.

I can do this **** all day. Allllll DAY.
 
I’ll buy it. Be there in 45 minutes...

You should have loaded it up and left.... slowly. Then when the “buyer” flags you down, explain that you just bought it for some guy around the corner for a case of Lite beer.
 
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He he he I sold a 1973 Plymouth Fury in similar condition 6 times before I gave up and pulled the 727/360 and the battery and dumped it for scrap but that was 1990 and it wasn't worth anything then, now that bike is not worth much now, but if you could loan it out six more times so you you don't have to store it for 30 more years who knows a 73 Fury with a small block 4 door brings $ today.
 
and just sold Stella my baby the STT to a VERY nice couple. I know it shouldn't matter, but it sure helps when you care about them and they go to the right person:angel:

I can see the floor now!
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A-A-Ron!!!!!!
 
Wow! You are a better man then I am! Doubt he will be back. I meet people at a parking lot across the street from my house. I don't bother until they are sitting there and ready. Eliminates all the snowflakes you get from CL and FB. Crazy how flaky people are. Text me when you get there and I will meet you...famous last words....
 
Beautiful car , I don’t know if I would have sold it the second time if it came back. There has been a few i wish I could get back.
 
cvc: Good from far... far from good. Kick ass smile making cruiser with an updated Mopar crate 383 and overdrive but you can see the street from the inside if you look down! Not a keeper, but I know who has it if i change my mind:)

NJ, ya buddy. Stella and I had been though a ton together but it was time to change her in for a younger, hotter model. I got a super clean low mile '09 SS from Levi in OK and that sealed the deal. Thanks Levi! It still rocks! Stella was very well taken care of and the new couple really appreciate it and the whole Buell thing. He used to own an X-1 and has missed it ever since he sold it. My kinda peeps!
 
For a very short time I had an STT, I didn't think it was anything like an SS which I also had. While not a dirt bike, in my opinion the STT is a very capable off road adventure bike and while it doesn't have the fork travel of a Ully I think it kind of makes up for that in it's weight, he is going to end up really missing Stella !
 
Time will tell, but so far the SS has been fantastic! I haven't put the TKC-80's on it yet, but maybe I'll do that this weekend, crank up the pre-load and compression and see what she'll do? Theres couple neat fire roads up north, I'm under no illusions about single track hill climbs:black_eyed:
 
So, It's Saturday. The next one. The official 7 day deadline of holding onto a bike that I just want GONE. Again:( The only reason I'm charging money for it, is because a lifetime of lessons showed me that anything attempted to be given for 'free' is perceived as worth less than that, and therefore impossible to rid yourself of. Oh! nice Ferrari! Free? Really? No thanks.. what wrong with it?? See? Listen to me, I'm always right. Oh crap. I got this thing a decade ago. 'For free':upset:

Theres a giant hot tub story I need to tell, but I digress. Do I blame the bike? the drugs? Vanilla Ice? I know I could keep the stinky $100 bills he handed me and just re-sell the thing to someone else, and I'm SURE there's another story there too, but dang it just needs to LEAVE and what could possibly go wrong?

This pinnacle of 80's style and technology has been sitting in the bed of my El Camino, Josephine Dirté, for a week now as my give-a-**** meter is solidly planted on the zero peg. Tap, tap, tap. Nope. Still zero. Some giant bird left it's digested dinner on the tank and I can't be bothered to give it a swipe with a dry rag, much less the wet end of a hose. Josephine doesn't care its back there, I have the key in it, barely strapped in, and the ramp laying next to it is just begging for even a barely ambitious dirtbag to give the 'possession is 9/10th's' speech to a unamused civil servant.

Small side track, but follow me now as I back track though time to last weeks meeting with this couple, when they both had hair. I had made it a point to tell Meth that this is really just a parts bike, not registered for a decade and if he had ANY intention of putting it on the street he should go to dmv.ca.gov with the vin from the ad, and find out what the registration will cost. I had him take a pic of the Vin, the plate, and the title. Because California wants it's goddamn money, and you sir are gonna pay. Curiosity overcame me the next day and I checked the DMV myself. Well its been out of reg for 10 years BUT happily California only counts fee's and penalties for 3 years, Whew! Wanna guess? For a motorcycle? A $700, 23 year old motorcycle? Just 3 years of fee's? WRONG!


$960

NINE. HUNDRED. AND. SIXTY. ****ING. DOLLARS.

Well, that settles it. He's screwed (and I'm moving to another state).

Back on track and truth be told, I feel a nagging amount of mechanical sympathy (empathy?) for dreams unrealized with this poor turd. I'm one in a long row of disillusioned idiots that thought this was worth a bit more than 'free', and I get to thankfully pass it to another idiot in the line.

4:30PM Saturday
Meth: "Hey, I can come by tonight or tomorrow, whichever is good for you."
Me: Ok, tonight
Meth: "Tomorrow would be better"
(Sigh)
Me: Ok, 11am tomorrow, same address. (and that makes it Sunday. Easter Sunday.)

10:52am Easter Sunday
Meth: "I'm running a little late. I had to wait for my girl. We're a half hour away"
Me: OK

2:10PM
Me: It's been 3 hours and you're ****ing up my Easter plans
(as I give up on them entirely and go get dressed for dinner)

2:52pm
Meth: "We just arrived! I apologize"

Now, I KNOW what you are screaming right now. I know! I call it 'Student of Human Nature' and you, dear reader, very accurately are calling me a masochist. Semantics aside, I took the razor to my wrist and cruised by the rooftop parking lot just to see if they really showed. Low and behold, they are there and in an actual truck. This should only take a minute (as I dig the razor deeper into my vein).

I get the obligatory apologies that don't matter and I don't need, she's now wearing a Rasta wig, and he's got a neck gaiter thing pulled up over the back of his head, under his hat. Both are bald now and I'm freaking sweating trying not to ask (still nervously holding the razor to my wrist). I answer all the same questions about ill-advisedly getting this junk ****hole of a parts bike to be ridable, I field the question of "should I buy $85/gallon of racing oil for it" with Um, No? You wanna spend over 10% of the total cost of this motorcycle for just 4 quarts of oil? and didn't DARE ask if he looked up the registration cost like I told him too. He has to pick his fingers into the hole of his absent tailgate lever to release the gate, and it promptly falls completely off, spilling some of the massive pile of random **** out of the bed and onto the parking lot. Massive pile of ****. That not only describes whats in the bed, but the truck itself. The one I told him to spend his motorcycle money on to fix. Theres junk wheels, tires, literal trash, a magic carpet, and oddly nice ripe apples, loosely rolling around. Mmmm, truck apples.
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Meth distracts himself from counting the $20 bills he has about five times by saying things like "I really don't like flames"
Reminder pic:
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Not just flames, but massive, everywhere, and Day-Glo. No flames for you? Hmm, you don't say?

He finally gives up counting to 24 and hands them off to his Rasta wig wearing girlfriend who diligently goes to work. Business done, all we need to do is fit a 500lb motorcycle somewhere in this reclamation facility of a vehicle. We? You caught that? Ya I know I am a Student of... aw ****-it. Now, I've loaded a bike or two (or thousand) in my time. Tired, drunk, wrecked, stormy, broken, you name it, and I was all of those things too. It's my mechanical empathy that forced me to help this poor guy. Oh, and he didn't bring a ramp.

But Mister $85 per gallon synthetic racing oil hoity toity moth ****le DID bring a $17 4-pack of Home Depot bottom line ratchet straps to tie this bitch down. Well thank God for foresight. Meth even has the balls to ask "are you sure your ramp will take it?" The one I just unloaded it with!? JESUS of all thats holy CHRIST! You are making me blaspheme on the day he is risen while the candy filled plastic eggs I got from a giant rabbit melt and my beer is getting warm! What in the ever loving **** would you do without my help, you time sucking, life draining, whirlwind of madness, and what in the ninth circle of hell made you both BAAALD?!? (I said on the inside).

On the outside I said "Ya, its cool"

They emptied most of the seagull nest out of the bed, rolled the truck halfway out the driveway, tires in the gutter, Meth's tailgate stayed connected to his truck long enough to support it, and 'we' only smashed one apple. I took that as my get-out opportunity, tossed the ramp in my now thankfully empty truck bed and bailed.

But... curiosity.

I went home, changed, washed my truck, changed back, got gas, hit the ATM, and just HAD to swoop past the shop, just to see... Yep. Still there. Still halfway in the street. He may have heard the Flowmasters from Ol' Josephine, the may have even tried to wave me over, but ya know? He'd already been set on "ignore" for an hour, and my give-a-**** meter still hasn't budged.
 
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