WHAT CAR SHOULD I BUY?
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Published: January 15, 2025
Author: Daniel Conderman
Context: Recovered Conderman.Group automotive tall tale
Original URL: https://conderman.group/2025/01/what-car-should-i-buy/


I need some advice on what car to buy. Here are some of the cars I’ve owned
and why I got ride of it. Nothing has worked out yet. If you’ve got a
suggestion for something reliable, I’m all ears.

First, I had a Chevy Caprice. It was a land yacht with a V8 engine that
could roar like a lion but had a habit of blowing up like a grenade. One
day, I was cruising down the highway, windows down, Springsteen on the
radio, when the engine decided it had had enough of life. There was a loud
BANG, followed by smoke billowing out from under the hood. It felt like I
was piloting the Titanic on asphalt. Junked it.

So I gave a Honda a shot. Ran like a sewing machine, smooth and steady. But
that headliner sagged just enough to brush the top of my head. I couldn’t
stand it—felt like being smothered by my own car. Junked it.

Then there was the Ford Pinto. Ah, the Pinto. It didn’t explode—but not for
lack of trying. Instead, the axle snapped while I was turning into the Dairy
Queen parking lot. One moment I’m dreaming of a banana split; the next, I’m
skidding across the asphalt like an Olympic luge team. Junked it.

I thought a Volkswagen Beetle might be the answer. That little car zipped
around like a champ, but the fan was so weak that on a humid day, the
windshield fogged up faster than a steamy romance novel. Tried wiping it
down with my sleeve mid-drive and nearly ended up in a ditch. Junked it.

My Dodge Dart? The frame rusted clean through. One day, the passenger seat
fell out of the car entirely, taking my buddy Dave with it. Junked it.

Next up was a Toyota. Smooth ride, great gas mileage, reliable as a golden
retriever. But when it rained, the sound on the roof was so loud it felt
like I was trapped in a steel drum during a Led Zeppelin solo. Junked it.

I gave American engineering another shot with a Pontiac Firebird. Big
mistake. The transmission quit in the middle of a busy intersection, leaving
me to push it through rush-hour traffic. While I’m drenched in sweat, some
guy yells, “Nice car!” Junked it.

Then I tried a Subaru. It drove like a dream, but the rear-view mirror fell
off within the first month. Glued it back on—only for it to fall again, this
time into my coffee. Junked it.

The Chrysler LeBaron was my next misadventure. The power steering went out
during a particularly sharp turn, leaving me wrestling with the wheel like I
was trying to subdue a wild animal. The neighbor’s mailbox didn’t survive.
Junked it.

A Fiat 500 seemed like a quirky, fun choice. It was, until the horn started
honking randomly at strangers. One time it went off during a wedding
procession, and I’ll never forget the look on the bride’s face. Junked it.

I tried to redeem myself with a Jeep Wrangler. For a brief, glorious period,
I thought I’d found “the one.” Then the brakes gave out while I was towing a
trailer. I rolled right past my driveway, trailer and all, and ended up in
my neighbor’s pond. Junked it.

Finally, I gave a French car a chance—a Renault. It was cute and
surprisingly zippy, but the door locks were so temperamental they’d either
refuse to unlock or randomly lock me inside. Had to crawl out the trunk more
times than I’d like to admit. Junked it.

My last car was an Oldsmobile Cutlass. I thought the older American cars
were built tougher, but this one burst into flames while idling at a red
light. I’d barely had time to grab my fries from the passenger seat before
it was fully engulfed. Junked it.

Then there was the Cadillac Eldorado. It was a beast of a car that guzzled
gas like a frat boy at an open bar. One day, while cruising on fumes, I
heard a sputter and a loud pop. The gas tank had ruptured, leaving a trail
of premium unleaded behind me. Junked it.

Next, I took a chance on a Mazda Miata. Zippy, sporty, and fun—until I hit a
pothole. The car was so low to the ground that the chassis cracked in two.
Junked it.

A Buick Regal seemed promising. It was comfortable, reliable, and had a ride
smoother than a Sinatra ballad. Unfortunately, the air conditioning gave up
in July, and driving it felt like being baked alive in a tin can. Junked it.

I thought a Peugeot might break my streak of bad luck. It ran great until I
discovered the windshield wipers worked in reverse. Instead of clearing the
rain, they sprayed it directly into the cabin. Junked it.

Then there was the Mercury Cougar. The car looked sleek and fast, but the
engine roared so loudly that it drowned out the radio. Trying to sing along
to my favorite songs became an exercise in futility. Junked it.

Finally, I ended up with a Kia Soul. It was quirky and reliable, but the
Bluetooth system had a mind of its own. It would randomly connect to
strangers’ devices, blasting their calls through my speakers. One time, I
accidentally joined a corporate meeting while driving to the grocery store.
Junked it.

Then came the AMC Gremlin. A truly unique car that lived up to its name.
Every time I hit the brakes, the horn honked. It turned a routine stop at a
red light into a neighborhood spectacle. Junked it.

The Saturn Ion came next. It drove fine, but the odometer displayed cryptic
messages instead of mileage. At one point, it read “RUN” in all caps, and I
took the hint. Junked it.

My brief foray into Swedish engineering brought me a Saab 900. The car had a
key placement so bizarre, it felt like a secret handshake to start it. Too
bad the starter gave out in the middle of an IKEA parking lot. Junked it.

I took a gamble on a Mitsubishi Mirage. The name was fitting because every
time I thought it was running smoothly, something disappeared—like the
muffler, the rearview mirror, or my dignity. Junked it.

The Plymouth Horizon seemed like a practical choice until the headlights
flickered in Morse code. One night, it signaled “SOS” on the highway, and I
figured the car was trying to tell me something. Junked it.

A Smart Car was my next attempt. Parking was a breeze, but crosswinds on the
highway turned it into a kite. One gust too many, and I was airborne. Junked
it.

The Lincoln Town Car felt like driving a rolling living room. Unfortunately,
the cruise control had a mind of its own, accelerating to warp speed every
time I tried to set it. Junked it.

I picked up a Dodge Neon, only to find the horn played “La Cucaracha”
instead of honking. Funny at first, until I had to use it in traffic. Junked
it.

Next, I tried a Hyundai Accent. The paint peeled off in sheets, leaving the
car looking like a giant orange Popsicle stick. Junked it.

My adventure with a Tesla Model 3 was brief. The autopilot mistook a drive-
thru for a racetrack and sped into the bushes. Elon would not approve.
Junked it.

The Ford Explorer promised adventure, but the navigation system insisted on
taking me to ghost towns. After ending up in “Nowhere, Nevada” for the third
time, I gave up. Junked it.

A Mini Cooper seemed like a good idea, but the door handles froze solid
every winter. Getting in required a hairdryer and a lot of patience. Junked
it.

The Geo Metro was fuel efficient, but it was so light that squirrels running
across the roof caused it to shake. Junked it.

Finally, a Land Rover Defender. It looked rugged and ready for anything
until the dashboard lights lit up like a Christmas tree. One breakdown in
the middle of a camping trip was all it took. Junked it.

Then came the Chevrolet Astro Van. A roomy ride that was perfect for road
trips, but every time I turned on the A/C, the smell of burning socks filled
the cabin. Junked it.

The Pontiac Aztek followed. It was supposed to be a car for adventurers, but
the hatchback wouldn’t open unless I hit it with a rubber mallet. Not
exactly practical for camping. Junked it.

A Nissan Cube seemed quirky and fun. But the moment I took it on the
highway, the wind caught it like a sailboat, sending me swerving between
lanes. Junked it.

The Isuzu Rodeo was next. Every time I took a corner, the suspension creaked
like a haunted house. It became too eerie to drive. Junked it.

I bought a classic VW Bus thinking it would be a cool retro choice. It broke
down before I could even leave the seller’s driveway. Junked it.

The Chrysler PT Cruiser looked unique, but it felt like driving a fish tank
on wheels. The windows fogged up constantly, and no defogger could keep up.
Junked it.

Then there was the Chevrolet Cavalier. A no-frills car that came with a free
mouse living in the engine bay. No matter what I did, it refused to leave.
Junked it.

I tried a Fiat Multipla. It had a face only a mother could love and a clutch
that felt like stepping on a bag of marshmallows. Junked it.

The Dodge Caliber seemed practical until the gear shifter fell off in my
hand. I was stuck in reverse in the middle of a grocery store parking lot.
Junked it.

The Suzuki Samurai was a tiny, rugged SUV, but it had a tendency to tip over
if you sneezed too hard while turning. Junked it.

I ventured into luxury with a Jaguar XJ. Beautiful car, but the electronics
were so finicky that the windows would roll down on their own in the rain.
Junked it.

The Honda Ridgeline had a hidden trunk in the truck bed. Cool feature, until
it flooded every time it rained, turning into a mobile aquarium. Junked it.

A Scion xB was next. It had all the charm of a cardboard box and twice the
aerodynamics. On a windy day, it felt like I was driving a kite. Junked it.

The Buick Roadmaster seemed like a land yacht in the best way, but the fuel
gauge didn’t work. I ran out of gas so many times I started carrying a spare
gas can. Junked it.

Finally, I tried a Hummer H2. It was big, bold, and guzzled gas like there
was no tomorrow. One day, it wouldn’t fit through a drive-thru, and I
decided enough was enough. Junked it.

The Mitsubishi Eclipse was sleek and fast, but the sunroof leaked so badly
that every rainstorm turned the interior into a wading pool. Junked it.

Then came the Ford Fiesta. It was small, zippy, and deceptively fragile. One
pothole and the entire front bumper decided to retire early. Junked it.

I tried a Toyota Prius for the gas mileage, but the battery died in the
middle of a nature trail. I didn’t even know how it got there. Junked it.

A Jeep Liberty seemed like a solid choice for winter, but the heater only
worked in July. Junked it.

Segway PT – Smooth and futuristic, but one squirrelly dog on a leash pulled
me straight into a fountain. Junked it.

Tesla Cybertruck – It looked like it belonged on Mars, but when I took it
camping, the solar panels charged it slower than my phone. Junked it.

Razor Scooter – Lightweight and convenient, but one ride down a steep hill
ended with me flying into a hedge. Junked it.

Boeing 727 (used) – Got it dirt cheap, but I couldn’t find a runway long
enough for my backyard takeoffs. Junked it.

Vespa Primavera – Chic and Italian, but it stalled every time I tried to
climb a hill. Junked it.

John Deere Gator – Perfect for off-roading, until I accidentally drove into
my neighbor’s pool. Junked it.

Zeppelin NT – Airship travel seemed romantic, but after the third time I
floated off course into restricted airspace, I had to let it go. Junked it.

Toyota Tacoma – Reliable and sturdy, but the bed filled up with so much
junk, it turned into a rolling dumpster. Junked it.

Hot Air Balloon – Stunning views, but one gust of wind sent me into a field
of angry cows. Junked it.

Penny-farthing Bicycle – Retro and quirky, but one tumble off that high seat
was all it took. Junked it.

Zamboni – Kept the ice rink smooth, but I live in Arizona. Junked it.

Concorde Jet (replica) – Speedy and stylish, but it drained my retirement
savings in fuel costs. Junked it.

Lexus LS 400 – Smooth ride, but the heated seats were stuck on high in July.
Junked it.

Amphibious ATV – Great on land and water, but I underestimated the size of
the waterfall. Junked it.

Cessna 172 – Easy to fly, but I got airsick on every landing. Junked it.

Hoverboard – Cool in theory, but it burst into flames at the grocery store.
Junked it.

Ford Model T – Nostalgic and classy, but I couldn’t find gas stations that
sold kerosene. Junked it.

Subaru Outback – Practical and rugged, but I kept losing it in parking lots
filled with identical Subarus. Junked it.

Go-Kart – Fast and fun, but I kept getting pulled over for driving it on the
freeway. Junked it.

Yamaha Jet Ski – A blast on the water, but I sank it trying to tow my
fishing boat. Junked it.

Segway MiniPro – Compact and zippy, but I forgot to charge it and had to
walk home pushing it. Junked it.

Canoe – Peaceful on lakes, until a woodpecker mistook it for a snack. Junked
it.

Volkswagen Beetle – Iconic and cute, but every other car on the road seemed
determined to squash it. Junked it.

U-Haul Truck – Handy for moving, but the brakes gave out halfway down a
mountain pass. Junked it.

Ferrari 458 – Sleek and powerful, but it scraped on every speed bump in my
neighborhood. Junked it.

Tandem Bicycle – Fun for two, but my partner never pedaled, so I did all the
work. Junked it.

Kawasaki Ninja – Thrilling and fast, but I got tired of dodging bugs in my
teeth. Junked it.

Hovercraft – Floated over everything, but I couldn’t control it in a strong
crosswind. Junked it.

Ford Bronco – Rugged and adventurous, but it rolled over every time I made a
sharp turn. Junked it.

Horse and Buggy – Charming and old-fashioned, but the horse refused to go
near my neighbor’s yappy dog. Junked it.

Paddleboat – Serene and calm, until the rudder snapped off in the middle of
the lake. Junked it.

Tractor – Pulled anything, but I ran out of things to pull. Junked it.

Mini Cooper – Compact and sporty, but every pothole felt like a jackhammer
to my spine. Junked it.

Lime Scooter (rental) – Convenient, but it died halfway to my destination,
leaving me stranded. Junked it.

Pontoon Boat – Perfect for parties, until I discovered I hated fishing and
sunburns. Junked it.

Submarine (decommissioned) – Great for underwater adventures, but it got
stuck in my backyard koi pond. Junked it.

Dog Sled – Exhilarating in winter, but the dogs went on strike after I
bought cheap kibble. Junked it.

Moped – Economical and fun, but it couldn’t outrun the neighborhood geese.
Junked it.

Snowcat – Amazing for deep snow, but I live in Florida. Junked it.

RV – Cozy and practical, but the first low bridge I hit turned it into a
convertible. Junked it.

Tesla Model S – Luxurious and quiet, but I couldn’t figure out how to open
the doors. Junked it.

Unicycle – Novel and quirky, but I couldn’t ride it without falling over
like a drunk giraffe. Junked it.

Monorail (homemade) – Impressive backyard project, but I got stuck at the
top with no way down. Junked it.

Hang Glider – Thrilling in the air, but the landing zone was a cactus field.
Junked it.

Freight Train (leased) – Moved a ton of stuff, but I couldn’t find parking
anywhere. Junked it.

Skateboard – Agile and cool, but one pebble turned me into a human
cannonball. Junked it.

Camel – Sturdy and reliable, but it spat at anyone who got too close. Junked
it.

Electric Tuk-Tuk – Eco-friendly and fun, but it got stuck in reverse during
rush hour. Junked it.

Zephyr Train Car – Elegant and classy, but my neighbors complained every
time I tried to build new tracks. Junked it.

So, what do you think I should get next?