In our last episode, Barry our faithful car salesman had dragged Z and me into the “Dungeon of the Doomed”, to supposedly show us our potential new ride.
And while I would love to create some bizarre scenario for your entertainment pleasure, I’m a little short on time…so basically that’s what he did…once he was able to find it…which wasn’t easy.
But, eventually he did, and while it was certainly nice, it wasn’t really my first choice as far as colors go, which is usually blue.
Since our current car, soon to be our second car, is blue, Z felt it would be confusing to have two blue cars.
She said if one of us told the other to take the “blue car”, we could potentially end up standing in the driveway for a half hour wondering which blue car was the “blue car” they meant.
Sounds silly, I know, but we don’t like to disappoint.
Having said that, plus a lot of other stuff I can’t recall at this time, the color Barry showed me was, happily, more than acceptable…something less than grey, but more than silver.
I didn’t experience a single one of those government agency vehicle PTSD flashbacks that I was concerned about.
Of course I had to act less than thrilled in order to maximize my dissatisfaction quotient, which could lead to some further price reduction down the road.
Z and I had worked out a secret signal with each other as to whether or not we liked the car, which makes sense, because to work out a secret signal with Barry would have been silly.
Z then returned the signal, as did Barry, who was amenable to anything in order to guarantee a sale.
It was at that point that I pulled out my pen and announced in my absolute best “Monty Hall” vocalization that if we could “bottom line” everything at $19,000.00…“Let’s Make a Deal!”
At least I thought I thought it was my pen, but as it turned out, it was my Donald Duck Pez dispenser, which wasn’t as effective.
Despite, the Pez, Barry said he had to run it by his manager but thought we were practically on the road already.
We then returned to the showroom to discuss the final nitty gritty, where yet another huddle ensued, with, again, much the same over the shoulder peeking, but without the rock paper scissors. This time they used dice.
At this point, Barry’s manager, Pete, strode up to our table, much like Clint Eastwood in one of those old spaghetti Westerns, which I guess explained the out of place poncho he was sporting, and proceeded to explain the hard truths of the car selling business.
In fact, it was a wonder that they made any money at all. He told me that Barry was incorrect, when he told me he could waive the $750 destination charge, plus, unfortunately, there would be other additional charges that they just could not avoid…but believe me they really wanted to.
Add it all up and we were right back at the original $19,121 we started out with before Barry made us his super duper great offer.
Pete then took a slow drag on his cheroot, spit on the side of my foot, and drawled that he was willing to work with us and drop a few hundred more.
Since this was still considerably more than the Barry quote I popped in a Pez, provided by Donald, spit on the side of my own foot and squeaked, “I don’t think that will do us parder”.
Then I mentioned the so called “Loyalty Discount” that Gabriella, our original smiley face contact, assured us we were entitled to.
Pete was good—very good— but I detected a slight twitch in his left lower nostril that told me I now had the upper hand.
Again, another huddle spontaneously erupted, this time involving a game of Twister, which I found odd, since who plays Twister anymore.
I was then told by Pete, in sputtering stops and starts that there was no such “Loyalty Discount” offered any more and that Gabriella was mistaken when she told me that.
A few additional words were then exchanged where I basically told them, in more words than this, that was not my problem and that maybe we should ask Gabriella herself what she was referring to.
It was then that I noticed the shoes I had seen earlier, on Gabriella, sticking out through the opening of a wiggly burlap sack being place in the trunk of a brand new crossover vehicle.
Then a well coiffed gentleman named Bruno, whom I recognized as the owner of the dealership from his endless appearances on my TV screen while trying to watch ball games, came over and politely asked if he could sit down with us.
Z and I then huddled ourselves, and agreed.
He then began to weep uncontrollably, which made me a little uncomfortable, and started saying something about forgoing the glute enhancements he had scheduled for next week.
Finally…an honest man!
Z and I looked at each other and passed the pre-arranged secret signal of agreement, which, this time, was something I picked up from a Three Stooges movie.
This was then followed by some more back and forth that concerned my deceased but sainted mother-in-law and car mats, and sealed the deal by a lot of hand shaking and everyone spitting on the side of each other’s feet.
Some sort of car dealer custom I guess….
So now, a brand new shiny car that does all kinds of amazing things, including talking to me and making lunch suggestions based on whether or not I’ve lost or gained weight since my last drive, sits in my driveway, complete with its first little ding on the rear bumper, which I put there on the second day by backing into a car parked behind me.
That’s my custom with brand new cars because who needs the pressure of wondering when that first imperfection will appear.
Now I can relax and enjoy my car without any worry.
The best thing is we’ve all become fast friends and everyone is coming over for a BBQ this weekend, including, thankfully, Gabriella.
I think she’s bringing cake.
But not my “Loyalty Discount”.
Apparently loyalty has been discontinued…..
Car Wars Episode I: Wheels and Deals
Car Wars Episode I: Wheels and Deals