Dear Used Car Salesman,
I will never step foot on your lot or buy from your dealership ever again. EVER. I was just browsing; I saw a Jeep that I liked the look of and was in the process of looking at the interior when you descended on me and started your poorly executed hard pressure sale tactics.
You didn't seem to understand why I'm not willing to drop over $25 grand on a used car when I can go down the street and get what I want BRAND NEW for less, and with a better financing deal. You also don't seem to understand that the more you push me, the more I'm going to dig my heels in and counter every argument you come up with. Both of those tactics were mistakes on your part, but your fatal mistake was treating me like I was some ignorant little girl who knew not much about the world of finance and vehicles.
For the record, I might be little and female, but I am far from ignorant. This is not my first time buying a car, jackass. I know how you motherfuckers work.
Introducing me to your floor manager was a bad move on your part, but his attitude smacked of desperation. When he asked me "what can I do to put you in that car today?" my response of "Not a damn thing" wasn't metaphorical, it was literal.
I'm sorry if you think I'm rude for walking away when you were both talking to me, but I just couldn't stand any more bullshit. It was starting to stink out there, and the water reclamation plant next door had nothing to do with it.
You'll never see me again.
Love (not really, but 'disdain' doesn't really work),
NM
Dear New Car Salesman,
Thank you for not pressuring me. Thank you for helping me to decide how to get the most car for the price I want to pay. Thank you for NOT trying to talk me into the super duper deluxe model and being content to let me tell you what I want and working with that. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Call me when you get a manual transmission model in. I'll come down and test drive it, and if I like it…..well, Mr. New Car Salesman, we're more than likely to have us a deal.
Love (and I mean that)
NM
1 comment:
My wife is a petite woman, who, blessed with a father and four brothers who are car fanatics loved to devour oily little car salesmen as a form entertainment.
Watching my wife debate with them about the merits of a Wankel (rotary) engine, and the compression ratios compared to a standard Pot (piston) engine was a joy to behold.
One evening, with our children safely at home with their grandma, she came to make a meal at the ambulance station where I was on duty. Not content to make a superb dinner, she went out to have a look at the motors. After a quick inspection she concluded that the engine was under-powered for the weight of the body and equipment.
She was spot on.
I can only conclude that you and my wife would make a devastating team of used-car buyers. Perhaps a reality show in the making.
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