baby, can i buy your car?

It happens the same way every time. I walk out of work, get in my car, turn the key, start to pull out, and then I spot it: one of these notes on the windshield.

They're always the same medium: ballpoint pen on paper grocery bag. And the same message, whether it's from Andre or Dave or Zach: they want to buy my car. As soon as possible.

I've gotten these notes eight or nine times this year, and twice this week.

My car is not a Lamborghini, Lotus, or even a Miata. It's not a Model A or '55 Chevy. It's a red 1998 Pontiac Sunfire GT with over 125,000 miles. In other words... uh, you want to buy this?

I was completely mystified until a few months ago when I posted a Facebook status asking why anyone would be so hot and heavy to buy my car. Jaimie Vernon responded thusly:

It's a popular chassis size that's easily converted into a street-racing car for the Honda Accord street thugs. Before I got rid of it, I had similar offers for my 1998 Ford Escort.

Huh. I had no clue. This makes me think I should be calling these guys and thanking them for offering to buy my car rather than just stealing it.

A few years ago, before I knew my wife, her '94 Mazda Protege got stolen. It turned up in a salvage yard a few weeks later, burned out and with "#90" spray-painted on the side. I hope the Happy Little Red Car does not have a similar fate awaiting it.