RV Touring 2
Part Two
As I continue to search for a new-to-me RV, the comedy also continues. I watched a video tour of a unit in north Fort Meyers where the guy actually said, “This refrigerator is either off or on.” And another video of a unit in Stuart where the guy said, “For privacy, close the door.” And then there’s the listing with photos, no video, and about six paragraphs of written description, ending with, “Call for more information or to make an appointment” but no phone number. I should thank these guys for eliminating themselves BEFORE I drove hither-and-yon to see their units. Now for the ones I DID travel to see.
RV #3 – Lakeland
This wonderful listing for an immaculate unit in the correct price range with the correct features popped up yesterday. I’m getting a little tired of driving to faraway places, for too-good-to-be-true listings, but apparently not tired enough, so off to Lakeland we went. Lakeland is across the state, toward Tampa, about 120 miles from Vero Beach on State Highway 60.
That route goes through Yeehaw Junction, and who wouldn’t want to go through Yeehaw Junction, right? I thought I might find the makings of future blog waiting on me there, but boy-oh-boy was I wrong. The town was once a junction on the now-defunct Florida East Coast Railway’s Okeechobee branch. The only tourist attraction of note, the only ANYTHING of note, is the Desert Inn. Built in 1889, the building was occupied as a bar, restaurant, and motel, and was put on the National Register of Historic Places in 1994. Oh, but wait. In 2019, an 18-wheeler hauling orange juice crashed into the Desert Inn. No small feat that, as it was the only structure anywhere in the vicinity. All that’s left to see is the wreckage of what used to be the Desert Inn. So much for Yeehaw Junction.
That route also goes by Bok Tower and its Olmstead Botanic Garden near Lake Wales. My friend Kristin mentioned this place, and I had already put it on my mental list of cool things to see and do. I don’t want to say too much about it here, but know that Edward Bok was an immigrant of note, and he will be the topic of a future blog. We called the number on the listing to make sure the RV was still available and told the dealer we were on the way, about two hours out according to Booth’s GPS. I didn’t dare stop at Bok Tower on the way there. The unit was priced really well and Booth suspected it would go fast, and the point of all this travel is to actually buy an RV. So, Bok Tower would have to wait until the return trip.
Turns out, it’s actually about a two-and-a-half hour drive and we got a little later start than we expected. We arrived in Lakeland about three hours after our initial phone call, and were exactly three miles away from the dealer’s lot when he called.
He said, “Are you almost here?”
“Yes,” Booth said, smiling while checking his GPS. “We’re three miles away.”
His response? “Well, I sold that unit an hour ago.”
ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME? So, you can call me now, an hour after you sold it, but you couldn’t call me an hour ago, fifty miles ago, when I was likely RIGHT AT THE TURNOFF FOR BOK TOWER, when you actually sold the damn thing? Arrgh! (Deep breath. Sigh.) But, I didn’t actually say that. “Oh, but wait,” he said, “I have some other units you might like at my other location, just 7 miles away.”
RVs #4, 5, & 6 – still in Lakeland
Even though everything in my brain screamed “bait and switch,” I agreed to look at the other, higher-priced units just 7 miles away. In my mind, I planned to conduct a bit more in-person research, see the floor plans and features of unfamiliar units, and maybe get a bit smarter for the next time. But surprise, I really, really liked one of these units.
I chose to remain objective. I was seething about the whole set-up to this thing, but I didn’t want to cut off my nose to spite my face. I didn’t want my emotions to cloud my judgment about a unit I might even like. But holy Hell, this guy was making it hard. I made a comment that I liked the exterior of the unit I was calling #6, but was all-but smitten with the interior of the unit I had actually chosen, the one I’m calling #4. He said, “Sweetheart, that’s not how it works. Maybe we should saw them both in half & glue them together for you so you can have both.” Really? As I was looking at the under-bed storage in my beloved RV #4, he said, “That would be a great place for all your shoes.” Oh, come on, man! But, after all the other false starts, I was determined not to let this guy deter me if the unit was a good one. After three hours on the lot, with questions answered, tires kicked, and test-drive taken in ol’ #4, I was ready to buy. I shouldn’t have been surprised to learn the salesman was a liar. He claimed to have complete service records, actually held up a folder full of manuals and such to demonstrate the point. Then when it came time to sign, he said oh, he didn’t have those records, but could probably get them, because the guy he bought the unit from lives nearby . . . if he was still in the area . . . (Sigh.) He said he would have the unit cleaned, actually detailed, but then said the list price did not include the cleaning so it would cost me $600 more. (Sigh.) Turns out, he wasted about three hours of his time on me. He blew it at the last minute, with me holding a blank check and an ink pen, because he got caught in a couple of lies and tried to bullshit his way out.
Sweetheart, rule number one in sales is to know your audience, and you certainly do not know me. My being objective about this purchase does not mean I’m oblivious to your snide remarks and bullshit. I’m certainly no rookie when it comes to making important financial decisions for myself, without a helpful salesman like yourself guiding me along. (Sigh.) But, as you may have guessed, I didn’t actually say that. Instead, I let my feet talk for me. I walked out and left him sitting at his desk with his mouth hanging open. And, I didn’t make it to Bok Tower.
Although counterintuitive, sometimes adversity and adventure do actually go together. I can’t help but laugh at how much of the state I’ve seen but haven’t actually seen in just this simple quest. For the record, I don’t recommend RV shopping as a way to see the state. From now on, I’m planning my adventures to places that are already appealing to me, and hoping maybe there’s an RV with my name on it just waiting for me to get there. And right now, as I type this, Booth said, “Hey, wanna go look at an RV in Coral Gables?”
As I continue to search for a new-to-me RV, the comedy also continues. I watched a video tour of a unit in north Fort Meyers where the guy actually said, “This refrigerator is either off or on.” And another video of a unit in Stuart where the guy said, “For privacy, close the door.” And then there’s the listing with photos, no video, and about six paragraphs of written description, ending with, “Call for more information or to make an appointment” but no phone number. I should thank these guys for eliminating themselves BEFORE I drove hither-and-yon to see their units. Now for the ones I DID travel to see.
RV #3 – Lakeland
This wonderful listing for an immaculate unit in the correct price range with the correct features popped up yesterday. I’m getting a little tired of driving to faraway places, for too-good-to-be-true listings, but apparently not tired enough, so off to Lakeland we went. Lakeland is across the state, toward Tampa, about 120 miles from Vero Beach on State Highway 60.
That route goes through Yeehaw Junction, and who wouldn’t want to go through Yeehaw Junction, right? I thought I might find the makings of future blog waiting on me there, but boy-oh-boy was I wrong. The town was once a junction on the now-defunct Florida East Coast Railway’s Okeechobee branch. The only tourist attraction of note, the only ANYTHING of note, is the Desert Inn. Built in 1889, the building was occupied as a bar, restaurant, and motel, and was put on the National Register of Historic Places in 1994. Oh, but wait. In 2019, an 18-wheeler hauling orange juice crashed into the Desert Inn. No small feat that, as it was the only structure anywhere in the vicinity. All that’s left to see is the wreckage of what used to be the Desert Inn. So much for Yeehaw Junction.
That route also goes by Bok Tower and its Olmstead Botanic Garden near Lake Wales. My friend Kristin mentioned this place, and I had already put it on my mental list of cool things to see and do. I don’t want to say too much about it here, but know that Edward Bok was an immigrant of note, and he will be the topic of a future blog. We called the number on the listing to make sure the RV was still available and told the dealer we were on the way, about two hours out according to Booth’s GPS. I didn’t dare stop at Bok Tower on the way there. The unit was priced really well and Booth suspected it would go fast, and the point of all this travel is to actually buy an RV. So, Bok Tower would have to wait until the return trip.
Turns out, it’s actually about a two-and-a-half hour drive and we got a little later start than we expected. We arrived in Lakeland about three hours after our initial phone call, and were exactly three miles away from the dealer’s lot when he called.
He said, “Are you almost here?”
“Yes,” Booth said, smiling while checking his GPS. “We’re three miles away.”
His response? “Well, I sold that unit an hour ago.”
ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME? So, you can call me now, an hour after you sold it, but you couldn’t call me an hour ago, fifty miles ago, when I was likely RIGHT AT THE TURNOFF FOR BOK TOWER, when you actually sold the damn thing? Arrgh! (Deep breath. Sigh.) But, I didn’t actually say that. “Oh, but wait,” he said, “I have some other units you might like at my other location, just 7 miles away.”
RVs #4, 5, & 6 – still in Lakeland
Even though everything in my brain screamed “bait and switch,” I agreed to look at the other, higher-priced units just 7 miles away. In my mind, I planned to conduct a bit more in-person research, see the floor plans and features of unfamiliar units, and maybe get a bit smarter for the next time. But surprise, I really, really liked one of these units.
I chose to remain objective. I was seething about the whole set-up to this thing, but I didn’t want to cut off my nose to spite my face. I didn’t want my emotions to cloud my judgment about a unit I might even like. But holy Hell, this guy was making it hard. I made a comment that I liked the exterior of the unit I was calling #6, but was all-but smitten with the interior of the unit I had actually chosen, the one I’m calling #4. He said, “Sweetheart, that’s not how it works. Maybe we should saw them both in half & glue them together for you so you can have both.” Really? As I was looking at the under-bed storage in my beloved RV #4, he said, “That would be a great place for all your shoes.” Oh, come on, man! But, after all the other false starts, I was determined not to let this guy deter me if the unit was a good one. After three hours on the lot, with questions answered, tires kicked, and test-drive taken in ol’ #4, I was ready to buy. I shouldn’t have been surprised to learn the salesman was a liar. He claimed to have complete service records, actually held up a folder full of manuals and such to demonstrate the point. Then when it came time to sign, he said oh, he didn’t have those records, but could probably get them, because the guy he bought the unit from lives nearby . . . if he was still in the area . . . (Sigh.) He said he would have the unit cleaned, actually detailed, but then said the list price did not include the cleaning so it would cost me $600 more. (Sigh.) Turns out, he wasted about three hours of his time on me. He blew it at the last minute, with me holding a blank check and an ink pen, because he got caught in a couple of lies and tried to bullshit his way out.
Sweetheart, rule number one in sales is to know your audience, and you certainly do not know me. My being objective about this purchase does not mean I’m oblivious to your snide remarks and bullshit. I’m certainly no rookie when it comes to making important financial decisions for myself, without a helpful salesman like yourself guiding me along. (Sigh.) But, as you may have guessed, I didn’t actually say that. Instead, I let my feet talk for me. I walked out and left him sitting at his desk with his mouth hanging open. And, I didn’t make it to Bok Tower.
Although counterintuitive, sometimes adversity and adventure do actually go together. I can’t help but laugh at how much of the state I’ve seen but haven’t actually seen in just this simple quest. For the record, I don’t recommend RV shopping as a way to see the state. From now on, I’m planning my adventures to places that are already appealing to me, and hoping maybe there’s an RV with my name on it just waiting for me to get there. And right now, as I type this, Booth said, “Hey, wanna go look at an RV in Coral Gables?”
