
Auto writer Logan Carter recently asked Jalopnik readers to share their most expensive automotive mistakes. He confessed that his own was purchasing his first car from a “sketchy dude” from Craigslist, only for everything to go wrong the moment the 2005 Saab cabriolet was parked in his driveway. The reader responses ranged from tales of purchasing a beater with the intention to fix it up, trusting cheap mechanics, deciding to invest in questionable upgrades on a perfectly serviceable daily driver, and “thinking I could afford that new 1985 Pontiac Fiero on my measly paycheck.” The last story hit close to home, as I found myself in a similar situation when I purchased a hot little convertible based on an attempt at coolness coupled with a rather embarrassing misunderstanding of a potential pay raise [more on that later].
My story of woe goes as follows. I had recently started my first job in advertising. I drove to work in a rusted out, 11-year-old VW Beetle that had been my trusty college commuter car. One day returning from work I discovered all of the spots in my apartment were taken; consequently, I parked my car on a Detroit street. When I went out to get in the car for work the next morning, the car was completely totaled, due to an errant [and nowhere to be found] driver. Although I got nearly half of what I paid for the VW from the insurance company, the amount was worth a lot less in the 11 year since I had purchased the car.
Faced with a conundrum of what to buy, I looked around at my co-workers’ rides. I was ultimately smitten with that of my supervisor [who happened to be Cathy Guisewite, not yet rich and famous for her self-titled comic strip], a 1975 Fiat Spider convertible in black. Having just received what I thought was a substantial raise, and wanting to emulate my cool and successful boss, I purchased the same car in fiery red. Soon afterward the troubles began.
First of all, I couldn’t afford it. When I was told by my supervisors I was “getting sixteen”, I assumed it meant my salary was being raised from ten grand to $16000 a year [which seemed like a lot to me in 1976]. Alas, what was meant was that I was receiving an additional $1600 a year, which raised my yearly salary to a whopping $11600. Those car payments were painful right from the start.
Secondly, Fiats at that time were not known for their dependability. The politically incorrect phrase attached to FIAT was “Fix It Again Tony,” intended to poke fun at the unreliability of the Italian car brand. So not only was I making significant car payments, but the car’s frequent appearances at the repair shop caused me to go into significant debt.
Finally, a convertible makes absolutely no sense in Michigan. Although I enjoyed the ease at which the top lowered [I could do it at a stoplight], the joy of wind in my hair could only be enjoyed for 3 or 4 months a year. In the winter, the car’s rear wheel drive and lowered stance made driving on snowy roads a considerable challenge. And as I didn’t have a garage, the cloth top experienced some wear and tear.
At some point, I realized my mistake and traded in the Fiat for a VW Scirocco, which continued my [interrupted] love affair with the German car maker. Proof of my dislike as well as embarrassment of the Fiat is that I never took a photo of the car or of myself driving it. The only good news is that I learned both financially and personally from my costly and rather embarrassing car-buying mistake. Although over the past 50 years I have enjoyed some vehicles more than others, I never regretted a car purchase as much as that of the 1976 Fiat Spider convertible.












































