Never, ever walk into a dealership "just to see what they've got." Salesmen see that aimless stare on your face and they're like starving cartoon wolves -- they don't even see a person; all they see is a giant walking turkey leg. Most small and midsize dealerships will have online inventories. Check those out in advance and start looking up the models you're interested in, then read up on each one: Comb through car sites like Edmunds, click on forum posts by owners, get the specs and find out about users' experience with reliability -- hell, go to Wikipedia and bone up on the entire history of the model and the powertrain you're considering. Back in school, you'd do the same amount of research for a book report on Huck Finn just because an older lady in a paneled skirt threatened you with the alphabet -- you can do the same legwork for a multi-thousand-dollar purchase you're going to entrust your life to every time you leave the house to get a burrito. Whatever you do, the point is to come in with a mental list: Do not let them steer you outside of that list to a car that you're not familiar with. Adventure is wondrous and grand, but the used car lot is not the place to listen to strange old men in tattered clothes whisper of magical chariots.

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"It's dangerous to go alone. Take this Daihatsu!"

Now this is the important part, so pay attention: No matter what anybody tells you -- no matter how respectable the source -- never, ever, ever buy the Kia. Regardless of dealership affiliation, every used car lot on the planet has a dull red Kia out back that they want to show you. It's going to feel wrong, somehow, like the air around it has gone stale. That's the universe trying to warn you. There will be rational arguments, and your brain is gonna be all like, "Hey, it sounds like they've gotten a lot better lately," and, "Look, even the car magazines think they've got some decent models." But there's a very simple explanation for this illusion: It's a vast government conspiracy and everybody is in on it but me. They are terrible cars that will explode and betray you, no matter how meticulously you care for them. Isn't that right, Optima, you fickle bitch?! You broke my heart! And for what? A measly 15,000 miles? I thought we had something! I spent two years inside of you. Does that mean nothing?!

You need to treat the first few moments at a dealership like an old-timey mobster being interrogated by the coppers: You don't say nothin' about nothin'. Financing? What's that? Trade-ins? Ha, what a hilarious portmanteau of gibberish! Price range? I don't even speak English.

The first step is just and only to find the car you want, go over it carefully, take stock of any work that needs doing, and barter out the final price. Only when that's all settled do you talk about trading in something. Why would you discuss trade-ins right up front if you haven't even found a car you like? You're not even sure you're shopping there yet. The grocery store doesn't pull you aside when you walk in the doors and ask how much you're planning to spend today. So why do dealerships always want to know your price, payment and trades first? Because it gives them leverage against you: "Oh, well, if we're going to do you a favor and take this trade-in off your hands, you have to buy one of these pre-selected vehicles." Or, "Oh, you're financing? Those aren't our finance cars. Our finance cars are all dull red Kias; let's go out back and take a look."

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"Ignore the disembodied voices telling you to flee. That's a ... feature. Ghost-voicing. Costs extra."

That's bullshit. Everything is a finance car. Just like everything is a cash car. The car does not care how you pay for it. It is a car. Even if it becomes sentient, it's mostly only going to care about fighting crime and ramping shit, like K.I.T.T. from Knight Rider. And brother, if that happens: You let it. You buy yourself a leather jacket and a perm and get the fuck out of there; your car search is over.

Also remember to CHECK. THE. FUCKING. FLUIDS. Don't just stare at the engine with your dick in your hand, wondering if you could stop the flywheel with your cock (no matter how awesome it would be to seize a V8 with nothing but your willpower and steely erection, this is not the time for it). Pull those dipsticks out and check the reservoirs. Brake fluid is, in an ideal world, clear to slightly yellowish. But the world we live in is broken and flawed, so it's usually tea-colored. If it looks like strong coffee, you're going to need to bleed the brake system, at the very least. That's a few hundred dollars right there. It doesn't require a lot of know-how or expensive parts, so you're going to want to do it yourself.

Do not.

Bleeding brakes is exactly as traumatic as bleeding your only child, only it takes like, four times as long (depending on size and age of child). Check the oil: If it looks like a Wendy's chocolate Frosty, just turn around and run. Run as fast as you can. Hop into your car and tear ass out of that dealership like The Dukes of Hazzard. That means a blown head-gasket, and it is death. If somebody assures you, "It'll still run," you can respond, "So will a man with no legs, if you shoot at him enough; that doesn't mean he'll get far." (The casual murder references let 'em know you mean business.)

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"Hi, Bob. Nice to meet you. I've killed four men. Every one of them stole from me."

Make sure the coolant is clear, the transmission fluid is red or purplish (just not black or oily) and all the belts and hoses are free of cracks. Finally, if it's a new car or a big expense, you buy yourself a copy of a program like Torque, then go on eBay and get an ODBII scanner. Plug that into the car (the ODB slot is usually beneath the dash on the driver's side) and you can see literally everything about its engine in real time, right there on your smartphone. Do me a favor and look at the salesman's face when you do it: See that expression? That's what hope looks like, as it leaves the world. He's just realized he's not going to win this one, because you're from the future -- you've already done this deal.

Works.

Every.

Time.

For everything.

If it's an automatic and it jolts into gear when you accelerate evenly, the transmission is probably bad. You just hop on out of that car, spare a couple of polite middle fingers for the nice salesman, and run to Mexico and sweet freedom. That is not fixable. Nobody understands transmissions -- not even a mechanic. All anybody can do about a transmission is just try to keep it happy, and try to shield our loved ones from its horrible wrath if we fail. Watch the oil pressure, battery and temperature gauges -- you probably won't be out long enough to trigger them, but they're your last resort. If something is so wrong that the gauges start maxing out during a short test drive, that car is about to transform into Shittimus Prime, the shit robot, who will shit all over your life until you are dead.