My George Costanza Moment

Back in the 1990s, I had one ridiculous goal in life — and I mean ridiculous for the salary I was making at the time. I wanted a Lexus LS400. The first one. The big one. The V8. Rear‑wheel drive. The “Sweat Ride” The thing rode like you were floating on air inside a bank vault. Every time I saw one on the road, I thought, One day…

The problem was the price. In 1990, a base LS400 was about thirty‑five grand. In today’s money, that’s pushing eighty‑five. On my paycheck back then, there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell I was getting anywhere near one. I couldn’t afford the floor mats.

Fast‑forward to around 1995. I’m on Craigslist — back when Craigslist was basically the Wild West — and I see it. A Lexus LS400. Clean. Low miles. Thirteen thousand dollars. In Malvern. The ad said, “First come gets it. Ask for Bill.”

I didn’t even think. I called the number immediately. Bill answers. I tell him I want it sight unseen. He’s friendly, tells me he’ll consider it sold, and I give him my email so he can confirm. He sends the email. Done deal. I’m floating. I’m finally getting my dream car.

Saturday comes. I’m at his house early, excited like a kid on Christmas morning. The car is sitting in the driveway looking perfect. I knock on the door, and a young guy answers. I ask for Bill.

He gets this look — that look you never forget — and says, “My dad… Bill… he passed away yesterday. Suddenly.”

And right there, I’m living a scene straight out of Seinfeld. I offer my condolences, of course, and then I explain the whole conversation I had with his father. I even show him the email confirming the deal. He listens politely and then tells me the estate won’t be settled for weeks, maybe longer. Basically: “Sorry, try to find another car.”

And here’s where I had my George Costanza moment.

I don’t know what possessed me — maybe the dream car sitting in the driveway, maybe the fact that I’d waited years for this — but I reached into my pocket, pulled out five hundred dollars cash, handed it to him, and said, “Hold it for me. I’ll wait.”

He just stared at me. Total disbelief. Like I had three heads. He even said, “Are you sure?” And I said, “Yeah. I’ll wait.”

Six weeks later, he calls me. Estate settled. Car’s mine.

I got my dream Lexus. And from that day on, my friends called it “the dead guy’s car.” And honestly? I didn’t care. I finally had the car I’d wanted for years — and I had the most Costanza‑style story to go with it.

And here’s the sad, funny twist to the whole thing: about a year later, I ended up getting a company car from Kohl’s. And my wife — who never liked the Lexus to begin with and called it “the boat” — finally got her wish. We sold it. After all that. After the dead guy, the deposit, the six‑week wait, the whole saga… the boat sailed.