Monday, March 05, 2007

Anger

I’m so not happy right now. I had a shitty weekend and I’m none too pleased in general.

So – I tracked down a Harley for a good price. I called the dealer where it was at and spoke to a salesmen no less than 4 times. I was looking at a 1973 Harley XLCH. It’s an old Sportster with an 1100 motor. I’m all about the old school look, and the old school Ironhead motor it came with. So I talk to this tool salesman 4 times and he assures me that this bike is pristine. It runs great, it has zero major problems, and is in great shape.

“Does it leak oil,” I ask, fully expecting it to – but also wanting to know what I’m getting into.
“Nope!” He replies.
“This bike is rideable, right?” I ask, “Because although I expect to wrench on it, I also would like to tool around and play on it before I begin the major rebuild on it. Spring is coming.”
“It’s ready to go, man,” he says.
“Are you sure” I ask.
“Absolutely!” he says.

I had this conversation 4 goddamned times. I was assured it would be a ready to go, rideable bike.

Soooo, I take a day off of work. I ask my dad to take a day off of work. We load up my buddy Snake’s trailer, my bike for trade, and Zombie Boy (who was sick on Friday and was off of school). We then drive 2 ½ hours to Pittsburgh to get my new (older) Harley.

Then we get there and see it.

Let me give you the breakdown of what was wrong with this bike:
-It had a shitty battery that would not hold a charge because it had an aftermarket alarm on it that was drawing the battery dry.
-The entire electrical system had all kinds of problems.
-It was beat and dinged, with scratches and rust on all of the tins, the cylinder heads, and the pipes.
-It had a Honda CB 350 seat that was bolted to the rear fender with a rusty lagbolt. The front of the seat was DUCT TAPED to the tank!
- When I lifted the seat, the wiring was stuffed under the seat in a big, tangled, matted ball. The aftermarket alarm system had wires that randomly dangled from different parts of the bike.
-Remember the rideable part? The brake pedal was BROKEN OFF! So I guess it was rideable if I didn’t want to FUCKING stop!
-Remember the no oil leak part? Yeah – that was a lie too. There was a significant leak off the rear cylinder head that ran down and dripped off of the back of the sheared brake pedal.
-And – finally – when it started (with a jump only) it sounded great, except for the spray of oil that poured out when it was under compression.

I understand that they wanted to get rid of it. And I might have taken it if it was $500 bucks and local. It would have cost me another $2k or so to get the bike rideable. I could have dealt with this. But this knob KNEW I was coming from Cleveland. KNEW that I was going all the way to Pittsburgh (which is another story in and of itself. Cleveland Browns fans DO NOT willingly go to Pittsburgh. I and my father were truly pilgrims in an unholy land. Pittsburgh Steelers fans are known to be vile sodomites and cannibals!)

So. I told them I didn’t want the bike and – I’m a bit embarrassed about this – in my rage, I murdered everyone at the dealership and bathed in their blood.

They shoulda known better than to mess with Doctor Zombie.

The search for a Harley continues…

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Major suckage. I'm so sorry!

Dr. Zombie said...

The Doctor is not pleased.

Thanks for the sympathy, Chrissy!