It’s Not My Fault

Written in 2000

I’m thinking that it might not be a bad idea for me to sue the guy who sold me my last car.  I bought it in 1996 when it was only three years old, 30,000 miles.  Candy red, all the perks, power everything.  The salesman assured me that it was a good car with a good track record.

The salesman also assured me that it was in my best interest to purchase a 36,000-mile extended warranty.  Lies, I now know.  37,200 miles later, I replaced the alternator.  $250.  Two months after that, I replaced the transmission.  $2,500.  A month after that, the car would stall after running for an extended period of time.  A diagnostic blamed the distributor. The CV joints (power steering) were also weakening.  The total cost to repair the deteriorating parts was $1,500.

It was time to trade. 

So, I huggled and haggled and was forced to buy a new car that I didn’t want, couldn’t afford, and have been struggling to pay for, ever since.  All because some jerk at the dealership wanted to make quota, feed his kids, and keep his job.

It’s his fault.  So, it seems as though suing the salesman for his lies is a viable option.  I mean, after all, he’s the one who lied to me and forced me to purchase a $1,500 warranty that I couldn’t afford and never used.  He’s the one who forced me to buy a car that I knew nothing about.  He took advantage of me.  Were it not for his lies, I wouldn’t have bought the Probe, it wouldn’t have cost me thousands of invisible dollars, and I wouldn’t have been forced to buy this new car that I now cannot afford. 

I’ve forgone meals to pay for this car.  I cannot buy the clothes I want, live in the apartment I want, or live the life I want because of that lemon of a car and that evil salesman who forced me to buy it.  If I sue him, I can at least get my $1,500 back and maybe a few more bucks for my trouble.

Then again, maybe I should sue the dealership, instead.  They are the ones who hired the lying salesman and bought the lemon in the first place.  It’s reasonable for me to expect them to pay for that useless warranty and the repairs that became futile. Upwards of $5,000 I could get for my troubles.  It’s their fault that I’m in this situation. 

Better yet, why don’t I also sue the manufacturer for producing a car that cost me more money in repairs than it was worth on trade-in?  If it hadn’t been such a piece of crap to begin with, the car would be paid for, I’d still be driving it, and that would be an extra $360 in my pocket every month.  Not to mention the fact that I don’t live the lifestyle I desire because I’m so strapped by paying for this car that I shouldn’t have needed and still cannot afford.  We’re talking thousands of dollars – the opportunity cost of my anguish. 

Yes.  It’s definitely the manufacturer’s fault that I’ve suffered such distress.  They knew that they were producing an inadequate car.  They were trying to seduce my greed for a sporty, stylish car for a reasonable price.  Just look at their ads.  In fact, I should contact all other former and current owners of this make and model and see if they want to join in on my lawsuit.  Seems perfectly logical to me. 

Why?  Because it simply must be someone else’s fault.  It’s certainly not mine.  I am not responsible for my actions.  That guy over there is.  Somehow, some way, I’m sure I can blame every single one of my mistakes on someone else.  And that someone should pay.  I don’t care about the consequences, or how many thousands of people I put out of work.  So long as someone other than me pays for my mistakes.  And I want cash.

I don’t understand this transition in the American psyche.  When did we start blaming everyone else for our problems?  How is it the tobacco companies’ fault that smokers smoked?  How is it McDonald’s fault that that a clumsy woman spilled hot coffee all over herself?  When did our own mistakes become someone else’s fault?

A while ago, I was discussing promotional “toys” with the owner of our small company.  We were going to order rubber superballs with an imprint of our logo as a giveaway at a conference.

“I can just see someone tripping over one of those balls and suing this company for injuries and damages.”  He said.

“Are you kidding?”  I retorted.  “You don’t have any money.  They won’t sue you!  They’ll sue the organization in charge of the conference or the hotel chain.  They’ll go where the money is!”

“Sounds like you went to the same law school I did.” He conceded.