Car Buying For Clowns

There is always some potential for sketchiness when buying a used car. After all, you’re buying something that someone else has SAT in, with their BUTT, for HOURS, EVERY DAY. It’s like buying a used mattress in some ways. (Am I alone on this one?) And who knows what else has happened in there. Really. And that’s just the car– there’s also the meeting random strangers in random places, and negotiating with them, and giving them a bunch of money, and finding their weird stuff tucked under the seat… It’s inevitably a little dodgey. That’s true in any country.  But.  Then there’s doing it as a Singapore expat. Somehow when you’re spending the equivalent of what people back home might spend ON A HOME, the sketchiness involved in used car shopping feels even more pronounced. To the point where it might lead a otherwise fairly sensible and self-assured Expat to behave like she thinks she’s starring in her own little horror flick. (Though you have to admit- the house slippers? Weird.) 

 

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