I HATE car-shopping. This is one reason why I tend to keep cars for years after finishing off the loan. Having a root canal without novocain would be less painful than going from dealership to dealership looking for a new ride. While the sexist good ol’ boys wearing brown plaid suits and bad toupées have mostly retired, the younger generation of car salespeople have new ways of driving me crazy. Two examples are below. I won’t divulge the dealerships or the particular salesmen (they were both male).
The constant calling and emailing. There’s a reason these guys want your cell phone number and email address when you test drive a car: Some of them will badger you incessantly in an attempt to wear down your resistance. In my case, this tactic has the opposite effect: I want nothing to do with the dealership, even if the car would meet my needs. I test drove one model last week, and got two phone calls and two email messages from the salesman. One call came while I was at church today. Luckily, I left my phone at home; however, I’m sure Julian was awakened by the call.
“Let me speak with my manager”. This either indicates that the salesman doesn’t have a solid knowledge of the cars and options he’s selling, or he’s using a delaying tactic to keep you in your seat at his cubicle as long as possible. One salesman today had at least three conversations with his manager in response to our questions.
I’ve only owned four cars in my life, so each car-shopping experience is an adventure in avoiding new hard sell strategies. With luck, I can keep car #5 until I have better transit options.
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