A while back, I had posted about how I was seriously hyped about purchasing and importing a Japanese Nissan 300ZX. The car arrived two weeks ago (just about literally). Two days after it arrived, much to my surprise, it made it through customs and was delivered to a local mechanic (at my request). He reconnected the battery, put some fuel in the tank and … Grrrrrrowllllll.
Via some … um … “extra-legal chicanery”, as of this past weekend, the car is now sitting in my driveway. [I am admitting absolutely nothing, but it is hypothetically possible that the car was driven, without plates, from the mechanic to my house – on back streets, at extremely low / safe speeds, with me following along – glued to the ass of the 300ZX to prevent anyone noticing a lack of a rear plate. … But this is solely hypothetical and has absolutely nothing to do with how the car traveled the barely-a-mile from the mechanic to my house. Nope … not in the slightest … No sirree!]
Yesterday (Sunday) morning, I went out because I wanted to get a picture of the VIN plate (necessary to submit with the paperwork to get a New Jersey title for the car – which is the step prior to being able to register the car).
While I was out there, my son suggested I take a “test sit” in the car – I had, prior to this, never sat in it – not even while it was at the mechanic.
This seemed like a good idea, so I proceeded to do so.
Well, it might be better to say that I … attempted … to do so. After about a minute or so, I was finally, able to get myself into the car. But then I discovered, even beyond the effort and unpleasant contortions necessary to get into the car, there was no way to adjust the seat so I could easily and comfortably reach all of the controls.
Then, when I attempted to get out of the car – I further discovered I needed assistance to do so.
I Can’t Keep It
Sadly, I’ve come to the conclusion that there is no way, realistically, for me to be able to fit into the car – the result of a combination of a stomach that’s a bit too big, and my spinal cord injury causing an utter lack of flexibility and very weak / un-triggerable muscles.
And, if I can’t fit into it / drive it, then, realistically, there’s no reason to keep the car just as a “show piece”.
As the overall title says – I am very sad about this. [Before anyone tries to jump in with “good ideas” … no, neither of my sons has an interest in the car. And, being utterly pragmatic, I’m also not in a position to be able to gift either of them a sports car.]
Thus, today was the first day of attempting to find a buyer for the car.
I know that this is not a car that a dealer will want (to be sold from their lot), nor, being honest with myself, would I want to sell the car that way. This is a car that needs … an … enthusiast. Someone who hears “300 Zee Ehks” and their ears perk up, because they’ve dreamed of one for years… someone who thinks the concept of a JDM import – complete with a steering wheel on the “wrong” side, a dashboard in metric, and everything labeled in Japanese – is the most awesome thing ever!
Also, I’ve accepted that I’m not going to “make money” on this car. My hope is to break even – at least on the major expense portions of it. Since that number is below $10K, that, hopefully, won’t be too much of a problem, but, obviously, time will tell.
The two things I’ve tried so far are a 300zx-dedicated subreddit and I went to a couple of local Nissan dealers. I explained the situation to a manager at both dealers, making it clear that I wasn’t trying to sell the car to the dealership, but, perhaps, to one of their staff, or someone known to the staff. The response at the first dealer was … not encouraging, shall we say?
However, the manager at the second dealer was enthusiastic. Hell, he got a little excited when he saw it was badged as a “Fairlady Z”, not just the regular “300ZX”, so he understood what a gem this is. He wasn’t interested, but he had a possible lead with one of the staff there, and he also said he would circulate the details to other managers in other dealerships under the same owner.
I’m … cautiously hopeful … that the car will go to someone who can and will appreciate it for the beautiful treasure it is.
