One Owner

The car at the door has its front end caved in. It's sitting right there between you.
"Car has no damage," he says.

Nobody in this trade tells the truth. In a minute.

Haggling
"One owner from new." "Original color, never repainted." "Had it for years, my pride and joy."
If it's his pride and joy, why is he selling it. Not your problem. Your problem is the registration and the inspection report in your hand. If the registration lists three owners, "one owner from new" falls apart on the table and the price comes down with it. Accuse him with nothing in your hand and he tightens up, and so does the price. Nobody tells you the lowest they'll go; you read it in how they give ground. Some of them just get up and leave.

The workshop
You beat the dents out with a hammer, paint the car with your finger, fit rims and a spoiler. What goes in as scrap comes out onto the floor gleaming. The next day a buyer walks in, you say "gently used," and you don't blink.

Auction day
The day opens in the auction hall. You bid against rival dealers. You can go in blind on a lot nobody has opened: sometimes it's a classic, sometimes it's a lesson.

End of day
The ledger closes. Did you turn a profit today, or did you just move cars around? The numbers will tell you.

You're the hunter when you buy. When you sell, you're not.