Used Cars and Proving My Brother Wrong

Used Cars and Proving My Brother Wrong

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Why used cars are good

My older brother is one of those super annoying people who competes with everyone. Even people who aren’t competing or who aren’t even aware that there was a competition going on. Like, if you happen to say you’re tired in front of him, he’ll go on about how much more tired he is than you. When we have potlucks at my mom and dad’s house, he literally talks about how great his own dish. Never, “Oh, ma, this turkey is so good, did you use brine?” No, instead he says things like, “These mashed potatoes are so good! Why am I such a good cook?”

You can image how annoying he is. Which is why when I was looking at used cars for sale, I didn’t even want to mention it in front of him. I didn’t want to hear about how much better his car was than mine and how used cars were lame or cheap or whatever.

I asked my dad if he wanted to come to some used car dealerships with me to help me decide. We made plans and, unfortunately, my brother was at their house when I went to pick him up. And then it started, on and on about how I was silly for considering a used car. He told me 3 times how much he paid for his new car 4 years ago and told me I was going to pick a lemon and then I’d wish I listened to him.

I fortunately live near the Canadian Border so I was able to find some great dealerships accross (Happy that the U.S dollar is so strong!). Here’s a few of the car dealerships I found at

Imagine how satisfied I was when I found a great car. One that just happened to be the same make, model, and year as my brother’s car. It didn’t have many miles on it, either, the previous owner only used it on weekends. So, I had the exact same car that my brother was bragging about only it had fewer miles and I paid a lot less for it.

When I pulled into the driveway at my parents’ house the next weekend for family dinner, I was so satisfied to see his face. It was priceless. My mom hadn’t seen it yet, either, and was gracious as always. I smugly told her what I paid for it and what a great deal it was. Then I looked at my brother and said, “Why am I so good at buying used cars?” It’s petty, I know. But I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t gratifying.