Several years ago our church purchased a new (to us) bus. We had finally outgrown our 15 passenger van, and due to the cost of insurance to even own the thing, let alone drive it, we decided to sell it. We parked it out in front of the church with a phone number and a dollar amount.
A couple of weeks passed. I was driving home from work and the pastor called me. It seems someone wanted to buy our van–sight unseen–for the full amount. All we had to do was drive it to the Ford dealership in Concordia, about 10 miles away. I called up Bruce, and we agreed to meet at the church, I’d drive the van, and he’d follow me to Concordia.
The trip there was uneventful. Concordia is a small, German town with quite a few places to eat for such a small population. I pulled into a space in front of the Ford dealership.
Walking down the street toward the dealership was an odd group of guys. Guys in skinny jeans, leather bracelets, mascara and hairspray. Then I realized they were walking toward the van. I used to hang with several bands, and none of them I knew wore their stage clothes when they weren’t on-stage.
It turns out they were members of two bands, who had been touring from the west coast in an old GMC Safari. Yes, a Safari is a minivan, and it would be uncomfortable for one band; I have no idea how they fit two bands in there. Anyway, the GMC had died and they needed a vehicle fast if they were going to continue their tour. We told them it had some problems (nothing major as far as we knew), and they told us that they needed a van, and needed one now. Bruce and I signed over the title and took a stack of hundred-dollar bills from them.
We couldn’t stop laughing on the drive home; we only wished we had thought to get a picture of our church van’s new owners.
A few months later I related this tale to The Bob, who used to attend our church.
“That’s funny,” he said, “We sold our old church bus to a rock and roll band, too.”
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