I was going to work yesterday when I spotted a Mini Cooper convertible. It was forest green, and I fell in love with it. I wonder how long I’ll have to save my tips to buy one. I figure about……uh…..multiplied by….divided by…..huh. Well that’s not bad, only 3 years. I’ll be 62. Little old, grey haired, trifocal wearing WWB (Wrinkly But Balanced) lady in a Cooper convertible rocking out to the Doobie Brothers.
Ok, I’m embarrassed already.
We’re going to Jersey this Sunday…yay! Bean and Oldest are gonna look at a Mitsubishi Outlander (is that right? Something-Lander?), and I’ve been invited not to come along. Oldest is seriously involved with a mom of 4 and figures he needs roomy transportation. We’re really happy about it....we’ve known her since she was 8 or so and she’s a real sweetie.
Anyhow, I’m not going with them because car salesmen don’t like me. I don’t use the label “salesmen” to be politically incorrect; it’s just that I never have a problem with saleswomen.
The first new car I bought was a green '79 Ford Fairmont. My '72 Ford LTD, also green...hmm, I just realized all my cars have been green...anyhow, I was hit by a drunk driver and it cost too much to fix it so I went shopping for a new car. I decided on a white Datsun...remember them? It had black and blue plaid seats, and I loved it.
So I got my financing in order from my bank and headed off to the Datsun dealer. I had $2,000 cash, excellent credit, made great money...where's the problem, right?
"No problem", says the little man behind the desk, "I can put you in this car tomorrow. Just come back with a co-signer, a man...maybe your father?"
Bye, bye, Jack. No commission for you this day.
I went to my sister's house and picked up 2 of my kids, put them in my smashed LTD and drove to the nearest new car dealer, a Ford dealership. I parked right in front of the showroom so everyone could see me. I reached over and opened the passenger door because the driver side door was hit by the drunk and wouldn't open, climbed over the kids and got out, got the kids out, and walked in the place. Walked over to a desk, pounded my fist down and said, "I need a car and I need it today!"
The poor old guy behind the desk was speechless. Luckily, he was also a grandfather. He gave the boys lollipops and coloring books and crayons, told them to sit on the floor, and we went out to look at a car for me. I drove away that night in my brand, spanking new Ford Fairmont, forest green with a chamois interior. I looked good!
The last new car I bought was my ’93 Geo Metro. I had $5,000 cash, excellent credit, the car cost $10,000…easy peasy, right? Someone’s gonna welcome me with open arms. I knew what I wanted, it was on the lot, I have 50% down in my pocket.…I’m the perfect customer.
Yeah, right.
This guy was willing to let me walk rather than give me free mats. I wanted something free. Why not? He didn’t even have to work for the sale. I work harder to get a customer to order a side of fries for $1.75 than this jerk had to work to sell me a $10,000 car! I was approved for credit instantly (his face showed how impressed he was about that), I didn’t have to test drive the car because my brother-in-law had one and loved it…I wanted free mats, dammit!
We went back and forth over this for at least 20 minutes, he was getting very frustrated and kept going back to talk to his boss (like I believed that!), and he finally lost it.
He told me I reminded him of his ex-wife!
My husband looked at my face, looked at his face, and said, “C’mon Hon…let’s go.”
I bought the car from another dealer, got free mats AND free pin striping, and drove it for 15 years with no problems. It finally died this year…RIP, little Smoke-mobile.
Where was I going with this? Oh, yeah…I’m not going new car shopping with them because…well, it’s better that way. I’ll go shoe shopping instead.
