Cheap | Timeshare

When he tried to sell it, he discovered a hundred other "owners" were trying to give theirs away for a single dollar just to escape the fees. Nobody was buying. He realized then that he hadn't bought a vacation; he’d bought a bill that would outlive him.

Arthur, blinded by the prospect of a $99-a-year getaway, signed the stack of papers. He left with a plastic keychain and a sense of triumph. cheap timeshare

The resort was named "The Golden Palms," but it looked more like "The Rusty Shingles" as Arthur pulled his rental car into the gravel lot. When he tried to sell it, he discovered

Every year, Arthur still gets a Christmas card from Gary. It’s a picture of a sunset. Arthur usually uses it to scrap the ice off his windshield—the only "utility" he ever truly got out of the deal. Arthur, blinded by the prospect of a $99-a-year

The triumph lasted exactly six months, until the first "Maintenance Assessment" arrived in the mail. It was $1,200.

Arthur wasn't a man of leisure; he was a man of the bottom line. So, when a glossy flyer promised a "Luxury Coastal Retreat for the price of a dinner at Sizzler," he didn't see a red flag—he saw a loophole.

"Oh, the purchase was cheap, Mr. Miller," the voice replied cheerfully. "But the property taxes, the roofing fund, the pool-cleaning surcharge, and the 'Atmosphere Enhancement Fee' are mandatory. It’s all in Section 14, Paragraph C. The part written in light grey ink."