Footnotes

Chapter 7

^* For those readers who feel lost amid automotive specs, let me step in here. An engine’s size is measured not by its outer dimensions, but by what’s inside. Most engines have within them four, six, or eight cylinders, which are smooth-walled spaces in which a snug-fitting piston slides back and forth. It’s in these cylinders that a mix of gasoline and air is pressurized and touched off by a spark to create an explosion, and it’s such explosions that blow the pistons down their cylinders and, through linkages called connecting rods, cause the engine’s crankshaft to spin; that spinning shaft connects to other components to move the car. The portion of a cylinder through which the piston sweeps is called its displacement. Take that volume, multiply it by the number of cylinders, and you get the engine’s size in cubic inches (265, 283, 350, and so on), liters (e.g., 1.4, 1.8, and 2.5), or cubic centimeters, which nowadays are mostly used to describe motorcycle engines (e.g., 750, 1000, 1200, etc.).

Chapter 8

^* In court on September 14, 1988, an opposing attorney suggested Arney was lying when he said he’d slapped his adversaries unconscious, that surely it couldn’t have happened that way. “How about I slap you,” an annoyed Arney growled, “and show you how it’s done?” The judge warned Bill Taliaferro that if he didn’t control his client, he’d hold both of them in contempt.

Chapter 10

^* The last offense came during a 1983 Christmas party at which Arney says he “had a couple of Bloody Marys,” then was approached by a young woman. “She said, ‘Tommy, I have a Christmas present for you. It’s out in my car.’ ” He followed her out. She insisted that he open the present on the spot. They were both arrested.

^† Let the record show that despite this story, Arney professes to like dogs. His household now includes two Yorkshire terriers, Lexi and Levi. A few years ago, Ashlee accidentally dropped Levi on his head. The animal appeared to be dead; Arney says the dog’s “pupils were dilated and fixed.” He performed mouth-to-mouth on the creature and revived it.

Chapter 17

^* Arney isn’t inclined to relax his prices, despite the worsening situation. Consider a scene typical of the period, in which two young men in crew cuts enter the showroom on a Friday in mid-May to ask about a 1965 Volkswagen Beetle outside.

Arney: “It’s four thousand.”

Young man, disenchanted: “Oooh.”

Arney: “Runs great. It’s in great shape.”

Young man, looking doubtful: “It’s been sitting there awhile.”

Arney: “And it’s going to be sitting there until somebody gives me four thousand dollars.”

(Laughter.)

“Let me tell you, I’ve had a lot of people try to give me thirty-five hundred for that car, [or] three thousand. But the fucked-up thing is that bitch is paid for, so it can sit there from now until—look, let me tell you a story. There was a guy who’d come in here and look at a car every year. The car was four thousand dollars. He’d come in here every year and offer me thirty-five hundred. I’d say, ‘No. It’s four thousand.’ He’d say, ‘Sell it to me for thirty-five hundred.’

“ ‘No. It’s four thousand.’ This guy even had other people call for him, offering thirty-five hundred. He’d come with his wife. His wife would sit in their truck, a little Ford Ranger, while he walked the lot. And she asked him: ‘Why don’t you just pay the man what he wants? Because what’s going to happen is somebody else is going to buy that car, and then you’ll be all upset.’

“Well, somebody bought the car. The guy shows up and he says, ‘What have you done with my car?’ And I said to him: ‘It ain’t your car. You never agreed to pay me the four thousand dollars.’ ” (Pause.) “You fellows in the navy?”

Young man: “Coast guard.”

Arney: “Oh, you are? Where? In Portsmouth?”

Young man: “Elizabeth City.” A huge installation a half hour to the southwest.

Arney, getting back to the VW: “Well, you can drive that motherfucker right to fucking Elizabeth City.”

Young man: “Yeah.” (Laughs.) “You can.”

Chapter 18

^* Arney to customer, as they step out of the Quonset: “Let me walk outside with you, and I’ll help you understand.”

Customer: “I don’t need to understand, really.”

Arney: “Really, I think you do. Because otherwise, when I said, ‘It’s twenty-five hundred dollars,’ you’d have said, ‘I’ll take it.’ ”