Neglecting Trade-In Value

They grabbed my car keys before even saying a number, and I just stood there, staring at barbecue sauce stains on their corkboard. Not that it matters, but it’s honestly distracting.

Missing Out on Kelley Blue Book Value

Once, I just guessed my trade-in value. Didn’t even check Kelley Blue Book. It’s like tossing your spare change on the desk and calling it a negotiation. Salespeople can smell that. The whole thing feels like a sad lunch with too much coleslaw.

Kelley Blue Book isn’t just a random website—they give you actual trade-in ranges you can quote, like a grocery sticker but for your car. Make a quick note on your phone:

Who cares if your tires are scuffed? Unless you want to point it out and sigh dramatically. Just pull up the numbers before you go. Otherwise, someone’s getting takeout and it’s not you.

Skipping the Vehicle History Check

I’ve skipped steps because I thought it’d save time (spoiler: it doesn’t). Cars aren’t jeans—if you skip the backstory, you’re just asking for a weird stain nobody mentions. Vehicle history, VIN reports, all that—sure, the dealership smiles, but my friend just sent me a photo of a “like new” sedan that was literally underwater in Louisiana. There’s always a catch. It’s never on sale.

Buying Used Without Inspection

So, yeah, a dealership’s not gonna just blurt out, “Hey, we rolled back 80,000 miles on this!”—like that’s ever happened, right? Except, it does. Odometer rollbacks sound fake until you’re the one staring at the numbers and something’s off. I always want to see paperwork—Carfax, AutoCheck, whatever, those $30 reports that probably just tell you the car’s been washed twice. If the airbag’s been swapped out three times and you only find out after your aunt’s in a ditch, well, that’s a new level of facepalm.

Honestly, I almost bought this Honda—looked fine, but then I noticed it’d had five owners in four years. That’s, uh, not a great sign? If everyone’s rushing to get rid of it, maybe there’s a reason. Some sellers just “forget” to mention salvage titles and swear up and down it “runs perfect.” Sure, perfect except for the squeaky brake pedal and the fossilized French fries under the seat. Like, who leaves snacks in the glove box? Not even good ones.

Checklist for not getting burned:

• Make them show you the history—don’t just nod and smile
• Get a third-party inspection. It’s like $100, not your whole paycheck, and could save you from a disaster
• Google the VIN yourself. Paranoia is a survival skill here

Disregarding Test Drive and Inspection

I plopped in the seat, hit the start button, and the AC instantly screamed like a blender chewing on gravel. So, yeah, no way am I skipping the test drive. People blow right past this step—maybe the salesperson’s got that weird energy, or you’re just desperate for coffee and your brain’s checked out. Wild how people will walk around a shoe store for an hour, but with a car? Eh, two blocks, call it a day.

Sometimes I’m so busy fighting with the Bluetooth, I forget to check if the brakes even work. Or I’m poking at the touchscreen, not even noticing the weird rattle from the trunk. No one’s warning you about the backseat buzz till you’re three weeks in and it’s too late.

Skipping inspections? Ugh. Once, I found expired insurance cards and a blender receipt in the glove box. Who even buys blenders these days? Shouldn’t an inspection at least catch that? My list is a mess on my phone:

• Tires—actually spin them, don’t just poke.
• Open every door, mash all the buttons.
• No music, just listen for weird noises.
• Look under the seats—brace yourself.

There was this one time I realized I’d never even tried the windshield sprayer before buying. Why did I assume it worked? Grape soda stains under the mats, mysterious wires by the fuse box, receipts from people named “Randy” or “Mona”—stuff you’ll never spot if you just breeze through.

But apparently, skipping all that’s normal? Maybe I’m just the kind of person who worries about the burnt-out bulb behind the clock. The dealership guy stared at me like I’d asked if the car came with a pet cloud.