Let's just start this way: I went to Catholic school in the 60s and early 70s. For 12 years. For the uninitiated, that pretty much meant you did what you were told and questioned nothing. Maybe your Catholic school wasn't like that but mine was and I can produce witnesses to back me up.
I found a used Class B motorhome on Craigslist, for sale by owner. This is the one I talked about in the last post. The seller asked me to meet him at a storage facility so I thought it was safe to assume the thing was stored there. It wasn't; he drove up in it. First red flag and as far as I'm concerned this deal was a scam from the word go:
- I still don't know his real name.
- No clear Washington title, where the vehicle resides; the last title transfer was eight months ago in Florida.
- Not for sale by owner but on consignment at a dealership.
- Not bought from a friend but at auction in Florida.
- Driven 20000 miles in eight months with no service recorded.
- Telling me I was obligated to complete the deal...... just because.
- Telling me I had to complete the deal because it was already at Evergreen RV for my requested inspection when the appointment was actually two days later.
- and much, much, more.
With the help of the great folks at Evergreen, the owner of the dealership he was actually selling the Class B from called me and promised my money back. Time will tell because the check hasn't made an appearance in my mailbox yet.
So back to the lessons learned in 12 years of Catholic school and, as long as we're at it, the way I was raised.
I never learned to act on what my gut was telling me. I could hear it shouting and acting out many times, but because I never had practice at listening, or was never taught that what I felt was more valid than what I was told, I just dismissed it as noise. Well, not this time, buddy. I started smelling a rat as soon as I found out that while it was supposed to be for sale by owner, this seller could not have been the owner because he didn't know how different functions in the motorhome worked. Just a little sign that all was not right, but I started listening right then and there. Then all the other things listed above began to rear their heads and I started asking friends, "does this seem weird to you?" Well, yes, all of it actually did.
I knew I was at risk of losing my $300 but I canceled the inspection at Evergreen, saving more than $400 for their fee, and emailed the seller to start the argument of getting my money back.
Part dos of this story continues tomorrow.
So what do you do when, in the year you turn 60 and your life seems pretty set and if not perfect, at least it's a known entity because it's the life you've been living for three and a half decades, you find yourself single? What do you do? I've been swinging around the Kübler-Ross stages of grief, that's what I've been doing (although I am so done with the Bargaining stage), but time waits for no woman. When you're 60 it's not only not waiting, it's giving nudges from behind. Cruisingat60 came to me in a moment of Profound Enlightenment when I lighted briefly on the Acceptance stage and I realized I have to keep moving and by that I mean forward. So here I am, doing my best to keep on keeping on in this year of Big Changes. Thank God menopause is over; wouldn't that be hell thrown into the mix?
The problem with moving forward is that there should be some destination, or at least a moving target to aim at. After wishy-washying my way through a few options, I've decided to aim at time on the road. I've always loved a road trip, so today I gave a total stranger $300 cash to hold a camper van for a week while he gets it inspected and I get the money together. He seemed nice enough....
Yes, indeed, it will be me and two cats in a 20 foot conversion van, full-timing it hither and yon. I'm building up a disorganized cache of places to go and things to see on Pinterest, and hope to see every one of them and all the places in between. Join me, won't you? Well, not in the van. Sorry.
