I had this bizarre dream yesterday.
In it, a friend of mine tells me about a business proposition he received.
In the dream, my friend drives around in a beat up 1963 Chevy Impala SS that is owned by his family. It’s a structurally sound car, has all the original parts, but needs some serious work to fix some rusted areas on the body and engine problems. My friend had ideas of fixing it up, but money has been tight for his family and he just wound up driving it. My friend figures, “it runs, it gets me around, and it is paid for.”
In the dream, a guy stops my friend in a supermarket parking lot. This guy is one of those Italian suit wearing type of salesmen who wants to sell you magic beans and adds your name to the every sentence like a Turret’s tick.
“I’ve always wanted a ’63 Impala, Bob,” says the guy as he looks over my friend’s car. “I could really fix this up–Yes, sir, Bob. Really make a show car out of it, Bob–maybe even turn a profit.”
Now, my friend Bob tells me he hears this all the time, usually followed by some ridiculously low price.
“Tell you what, I’ll do, Bob. How about we trade? I have a 1966 Corvette 427. It’s a little rough, but in about the same shape as this beauty.”
Bob is intrigued, not in the least because he and his family have always believed in saving such old cars for posterity. He knows that a fixed up ’66 Corvette would be quite a step up, collectibility-wise, from the Impala. His family could even sell it to a serious collector to make sure that it would always be preserved.
When Bob finally get’s to look at the stranger’s Corvette, he finds the stranger was being accurate. The Corvette has some body issues, isn’t technically running, and definitely needs a paint job and new interior, but it is all there and all original.
Bob says that he might be interested.
“Well, here’s the way I see the deal, Bob. We swap pink slips straight across. However, since I have been storing some stuff in the back seat of my ‘Vette here, I will have keep control of the back seat area, Bob.”
My friend looks at the Corvette’s small back seat and decides, “Well, I don’t really use the back seat on my car that often, I guess that might be okay. The Corvette will still be mine.”
Then Bob adds his own condition, “Well, to make this work, I will need the Corvette to be fixed up. You know, so I can sell it to a real collector and get my original investment back. How about you pay to fix up the Corvette and I will pay to fix up my Impala?”
The stranger agrees. “And I’ll tell you what, Bob. If you need the Impala to get around, I’ll even rent it back to you for a while at a reasonable rate.”
Bob thinks about it for a minute and decides it all sounds good. “Of course, the car is owned by my family. Actually, my Dad left it jointly to me and my nine brothers and sister when he passed away. I will have to get their okay.”
The stranger smiles, “Well, that shouldn’t be a problem, Bob. See, I’ve worked with a couple of your brothers before, Bob. They know me and if I ask, I think they will okay the deal.”
So, Bob takes the proposal to his siblings. Four of his brothers are very excited about it.
“I don’t care,” says one, “as long as it is good for the family.”
“We have to save this Corvette for posterity,” says another. “It’s our obligation to history.”
“Don’t you think we may be rushing this a bit,” asks one. “Maybe we should think about this, say for 30 days.”
Bob’s brother that has done the most business with the stranger says, “Come on. What options do we have? None. We have to do this now.”
Three of his sisters all think it is a terrible plan.
“This may sound like a good deal, but I don’t trust it,” says one who has dealt with the stranger before.
“You know, I just did some calculations,” says another sister as the brothers all grimace. “In reality, this is going to cost us a lot of money when you add up all the expenses. Money this family doesn’t have.”
After about two and half hours of discussion, they decide to vote.
The ayes have it, with four brothers and one sister saying yes. Bob’s other three sisters and youngest brother all vote no.
Then, suddenly, the dream skips ahead a few years.
The stranger has parlayed the Impala into a small fortune, selling it to some Japanese collector for double market value. He even managed to sell off the back seat space he retained in the Corvette for a healthy profit.
Bob, and his family, though, had not fared as well. It turns out that the Corvette was a money pit and Bob and his family wound up destitute and broke.
Then I woke up…in a cold sweat…and screaming.
Like I said, it was a weird dream. I don’t even have a friend named Bob.
Thank God it was only a dream.