So goes the game of negogiation over trucks. I am putting my final offer today on one of the trucks I’ve been negogating the past week over, but honestly I realizedit is much too big and long for my needs and I should walk in favor of one of the other deals or inventory, but like anything, it might work for me if the price is right.
I’ve learned a lot about negogiation this past week, 💭 constantly strageizing and working the numbers. Putting each argument in the favor of the other side – how my proposal can benefit the other side – and not being focused on yourself. Always being polite and professional, holding back, using the clock. So many times I wanted to tell the other side, you’re an asshole for trying to manipulate and mislead me, but instead just let silence do the talking. I’ve also learned about how the zone of possible agreement is constantly shifting, how even your own views and priorities can change over the process of negogiation.
I had wanted a SuperDuty with an long bed for extra room for camping, 🏕️ but when the avaliable truck that met all other needs came with a crew cab plus the extended cab, I realized I was looking at 22 foot boat, over 3 feet longer then my old red truck. Almost impossible to park anywhere, including at camp. Somehow I got distracted from that fundamental fact, in the fight for the best price before the end of the quarter. The negogiation had more value to me then actual thing I was buying. Negogiation fog is the term of art. It also meant so many sleepless nights, smoking weed to try to get at least a bit of sleep then pounding coffee ☕ in the morning to be somewhat functional at work, though I have been slacking at my job, making mistakes and over tired 😴 as I focus on the fight for the truck I don’t really want, even if it’s red and very, very big. There may be a reason why the truck hasn’t sold, and why it’s listed cheap and why I know I have so much leverage over the dealership which I know is desperate to get rid of it. But I guess 3′ longer then my old truck isn’t that much longer. 2′ is the long bed, the other foot is added to quad cab over the extended cab.
In some ways, I wish that March 31st was the hard deadline, 🪧 and no more trucks would be avaliable after that day. No more analysis, no more making your case, and standing still and ignoring the bloody nose 👃 your opponent just gave to you. But it’s not. Maybe my leverage is strongest now, however it’s not like I can’t pay more, and I don’t think gas-guzzling SuperDuty prices ⛽ are going to sky rocket at the same time. Truth is it would have been hard to get my insurance agent to open a new line of insurance, and for me to get to a check or a loan finalized by Tuesday 7 PM. And I think my ideal truck is evolving – I like the vinyl seats and real basic everything – but maybe not the long bed. Extended cab, short bed, FX4 really seems like a good alternative. The skid plates initially seemed good – those fuel tanks hang low on the SuperDuties – but actually what I really like about the FX4 is hill descent control, the low speed cruise-control for heading down long steep, rough mountain roads without physically riding the brakes or accidentally putting the truck into a slide by over torquing the brakes or accelerator.
Maybe I should have test drove trucks earlier, 🛻 figured out what I wanted earlier on. But I thought I had known. And it’s kind of hard to test drive cars without a vehicle. If I ask a buddy or my parents to give me a ride to a dealership, then I feel like they’ll be there pushing me into the truck that they think I should buy. And there will be a lot of pressure to buy that day, rather then negogiate for a fair price on the vehicle. I could also rent a car or use one of the CDTA Carshare vehicles that are $5 a hour, if I decide to go that way. I worry though about the pressure to buy while the clock is ticking, ⌛ but that also is an incentive not spend time in the dealership negogating.
Off to work, 🚲 after showering on the bike, and then I will put in that final bid. If anything the week of sleeplessness and mistakes has made me a lot more educated about negogating for future trucks I’ve looked at, and I won’t argue there were probably a few tactical mistakes I made (hinting I could do the deal either in that big nasty swear word of cash or with dealer finance) – but I also realize how bad dealers can actually be negogating (failing to put terms in perspective of the buyer) as most customers don’t actually negogate when buying a car, except maybe for a $500 off the sticker price or I don’t know one free car wash. 💰 I want a nice truck for traveling, but also want to a be a responsible stewart of money, so some day I can have that off-the-grid cabin 🏡 of the burn barrel 🛢️ and cattle 🐮 out back. Fuck plastics recycling, shit burns just fine even if it makes some smelly black smoke. Fuck big electric bills from coal fired plants, and buying mountains of junk food wrapped in plastic destine for the garbage mound on the outskirts of town.
The truth is, I feel drained despite last night’s sleep. I’m walking through the woods at Schiffendecker Preserve, looking for whatever signs of spring I can find as March winds down. As I walk, I’m weighing my next move in negotiating for a new truck with various dealers. Nearby, the roar of traffic from the Thruway competes with the birdsong. Listening to Living Free in Tennessee – Nicole Sauce: You Are The Story You Tell Yourself. That is the truth: it is sunny, but breezy. Fire weather if not so damp.
I am just trying to process it all. This is about more than a vehicle; it’s about who I want to be as I grow older. While the truck is a major outlay, it represents hundreds of nights in the wilderness by a fire. In the context of my investments and future plans, the cost isn’t a dealbreaker. I’m not doing this to impress anyone—it’s a big, ugly work truck—I’m buying it for the recreation. If it doesn’t fit my lifestyle in a few years, I can always sell it. I don’t want to become a “commuter.”
When my parents pass and I take over their homestead, I can buy a small probably electric car for trips from the country to work and keep the truck for farm work—hauling goats, hogs, and trash to the transfer station. My parehts neighborhood is too residential for burning much, thanks to the burn ban, but in the meantime, it would be a nice homestead before I get the off-the-grid property in a free state. And the truck remains my dream rig for seeing America—provided gas doesn’t get too expensive. I’m genuinely freaked out by the war in the Middle East, rising gas prices, and inflation, but I’m not ready to give up on traveling or the freedom of the road, even if I still mostly use my bike and the bus around town.
I’m also not giving up on my dream of an off-grid homestead in a free state when I retire. I want a solar setup I’ve built myself, no utility bills, and the freedom to shoot or burn whatever is necessary. It won’t happen today—it takes time—and it isn’t a realistic dream in a place like New York. It’s the city that pays the taxes and, ultimately, the salary that will make that dream a reality. Some might say I’m forgoing that future for a big, ugly truck now, but I know I’m not.
I listen to the roar of traffic and the breeze, searching for those signs of spring. So far, it’s mostly just winter fireflies and a few wild chives—which are delicious, with that rich flavor of garlic and onion. Today is not the future; it is only today. I have to enjoy what I have now while saving for that great tomorrow.
