Do not try this at home! I bought this shiny hunk of aluminum last week from off a craigslist ad in San Deigo. I live in St. Louis. That's about a two thousand mile distance. So I kindly asked the owner, Brett (a vintage car aficionado from sunny Southern California) to meet me half way in Albuqurque, New Mexico. Amazingly he agreed. The worst part of buying a trailer 34 hours away and planning to meet half way is closing the deal. I was speaking regularly with the owner of this trailer, Brett, for about a week. He was a really nice guy and it was a gut feeling alone that he was an honest guy that kept the deal alive. Once my mind was set that I would buy the trailer, I just went to work making it happen. We both had so much to do.
He had to get plates, apply for a California title, repack bearings, buy new tires, and work his regular job. I had to get roadside assistance, have trip check inspection done on my car, get two new tires and a spare, work weekend hours to build up time off at work, talk Gary out of thinking I had finally lost my mind, and talk myself into giving my new San Diego friend a big old deposit, trailer sight unseen. And work a regular job. Exactly 12 hours after sending Brett the deposit, we get a call from him saying that a photographer wants to use the trailer in a GQ photo shoot in Malibu. This was the one moment in the whole deal when I hung my head and kissed my deposit goodbye. I don't even know why it sounded whacked out all of a sudden. After all, I was the girl driving half way across the country for a trailer like it was no big deal. What's a little detour for a GQ photoshoot. It just sounded too surreal, like a joke. So I called Brett back and told him that the idea of the trailer going to Malibu instead of straight to New Mexico was giving me heart palpatations. Without another word, Brett says, "Ok, then I won't do it." I'll leave Friday morning to meet you. And he did. We met up in New Mexico and the trailer looked lovely.