Hoopty

There was a time when buying a car meant walking onto a lot, haggling until you hated yourself, and leaving in a depreciating asset that at least smelled like victory. Now? You just need a browser, a credit card with questionable limits, and the emotional stability of a Buddhist monk. Because online auctions — especially Bring a Trailer (BaT) — are not for the weak.

Scroll BaT long enough and you’ll start to think you need a Mercedes W123 diesel wagon. In Arizona Beige. With Euro bumpers. Why not? Never mind that you live in Brooklyn and haven’t driven more than 30 mph since 2019.

Each listing reads like automotive fan fiction: “One-owner,” “California car,” “no rust,” “clean Carfax,” and the always seductive “only driven on Sundays by a dentist who believed in preventative maintenance and the power of prayer.” Throw in more photos than an OnlyFans, three driving videos, and a full binder of receipts dating back to the Carter administration, and suddenly you’re whispering “just one more bid” like you’re slipping back into a gambling relapse.

Comment Sections: A Support Group in Disguise
Want to know what it feels like to bond with complete strangers over a car you’re all secretly hoping the others don’t bid on? Welcome to the BaT comment section. A mix of praise, concern trolling, and mechanical fanboyism:

• “GLWA! Beautiful example.”
• “Shame it doesn’t have the original shift knob.”
• “I had one just like this in college. Totaled it. Still hurts.”

It’s like Antiques Roadshow with radiator hoses and heartbreak; and everyone seems to be the expert.

The Emotional Free Fall of Getting Outbid
You tell yourself it’s just a game. You set a limit. You bid. You win…for ten minutes. With three minutes to go, some silent sniper drops a $500 bomb and resets the clock. It keeps happening. You up your bid. Again. You stare at the screen. Sweat. Rage. Denial. Acceptance. Then finally, the “YOU HAVE BEEN OUTBID” message appears in all caps like a personal attack.

You lie awake that night wondering if you should’ve gone higher. Was that 1986 MR2 really going to fix your life? But all we can think about is how the winning bidder gets that chance to find out.

The Cars We Lose Become Part of Us
It’s not just the bidding. It’s the browsing. The what-ifs. The fantasy garages you mentally build. Every no-sale becomes a tiny heartbreak. Every over-bid car is proof the market’s insane (not you, of course). The ones that get away live rent-free in your brain, like your high school crush who moved to Oregon, got into hiking, and was an extra in that one episode of “Friends”.

How to Cope: A Short List for the Auction-Weary

• Delete your saved searches (especially “manual, wagon, pre-1995”).
• Accept that not every Miata is “investment grade.”
• Read your bank statement out loud until your pulse slows.
• Touch grass.
• Buy a project on Craigslist and remember why you swore off this hobby in the first place.

Online car auctions tap into every base emotion: envy, pride, desire, regret. It’s window shopping with stakes. And like any high-stakes game, the house usually wins. But hey, at least you didn’t buy that $70,000 Scout with questionable VIN history…right?