So, in case y’all have been up late at night wondering, the folks at Toyota along with other major automotive makers, did not come through with a car for me. Apparently, they only give free cars to people like Oprah, which is ironic considering that Oprah probably doesn’t drive herself anywhere EVER and if she wanted to, she could buy any car she wanted.
I’m not bitter. She’s Oprah and I can’t compete with that.
Really, I’m not bitter.
And while I’m not exactly on this subject, I’m also not bitter that Jennifer Aniston and Reese Witherspoon are given free Prada purses and Manolo Blahniks, when clearly they could just buy them. Why not give those Pradas and Manolos to someone who would really appreciate them? Like perhaps a mommy blogger who calls herself Big Mama?
I’m not really bitter about it at all.
Anyway, last Monday night, when it became apparent Mr. Honda wasn’t going to give me a car, P and I began to discuss our automobile situation. My official last day of work was going to be the next day, Tuesday, May 1, and the company would be picking up my sweet, sweet Ford Escape at some point, leaving me without a mode of transportation other than Gulley’s Trailblazer or my feet.
We decided that after I dropped Caroline off at school Tuesday morning, we’d go car shopping. For the last 10 years, I’ve always had a company car, which means I’ve driven a white Ford Taurus, a silver Ford Taurus, a black Grand Prix, a silver Grand Prix and a gray Ford Escape. P has always driven Ford trucks and so between the two of us, our car knowledge was limited.
We called a friend who knows a lot about cars, and we did some research on the internet Monday evening to prepare for our big day. We knew enough to know we couldn’t go in blind, or we might leave with a 1987 Suzuki Samurai because it’s a classic and they get great gas mileage.
At 9:00 Tuesday morning, we hit the first dealership. Lord have mercy, we weren’t even out of our car before a salesman came running to meet us. He introduced himself as Jo EL, strong emphasis on the EL, and he shook P’s hand very firmly and then turned to give me the limp, dishrag handshake. Way to go, Jo EL, you just started off with one of my biggest pet peeves. If you’re going to shake my hand, shake it like you mean it. I realize I’m a fragile, delicate woman, but I can handle a real handshake.
I am a strong believer in equal opportunity handshakes. Do not hold my fingers lightly and turn my hand in a way that looks like you might try to kiss it. I’m here to buy a car, not to watch Prince Charles play polo.
Anyway, Jo EL began to question us on what we were looking for in a vehicle and P was quick to tell him that we were only looking today, not buying. There were a few cars on the lot that we were interested in, so we took a couple of them for test drives while Jo EL sat in the back and offered a running commentary on the car’s various features and essentially gave us the entire history of the Volvo corporation. The real seller was when he let us know “Volvo’s are still made in Sweden”.
What?? They’re made in Sweden? Home of the famous meatballs? Well sign us up, Jo EL.
He also let us know that the seats in the car are designed by the same people who design the seats in Lear jets, which made complete sense, because when I first sat in the car I thought it felt exactly like the seats feel in our Lear jet.
When we pulled back into the lot, Jo EL asked if we were ready to go in and see what kind of a deal he could get us on this fine, Swedish piece of auto machinery. P stated again that we weren’t buying a car today, we were just looking. And Jo EL said, “Well, you think you’re just looking but I bet if I made you a deal that looked as good as a big old juicy steak sitting on a plate with a baked potato, you’d decide you need to eat today.”
Shut up.
Texas Sales Skills 101. Jo EL was pulling out the big guns with his steak analogy.
And since I hadn’t eaten breakfast, all his closing technique did was remind me I was hungry.
We thanked Jo EL for his time and all of his information, and headed to the next dealership. Once again, we were met as soon as we got out of the car, but this time we didn’t see anything that interested us, so we left without taking any test drives. Finally, we went to the last dealership on our list and test drove a few more cars. The salesman showing us around was nice enough, but when we went to leave without buying anything, I thought his manager was going to self implode. He began pointing quickly to all these cars while practically yelling at us, “Do you want a Passat? Here’s a green Passat. It’s a great car. Wait! Please! LOOK AT THIS PASSAT! YOU MUST BUY A PASSAT!”
And I couldn’t help myself, I just started laughing. P informed him we weren’t interested in a Passat, and after we pried him off the bumper of the Escape (which was never so appropriately named) we left. We headed home to do a little more research, but we both felt that Jo EL and his Volvo were the frontrunners.
Later that afternoon, we decided we were ready to make a purchase. It was a good deal with a great warranty and was exactly what we were looking for. P drove back up to the dealership and told them to start the paperwork because really is there anything quite as fun as making a major purchase after losing a source of income?
In fact, we were a little concerned that we may not qualify for financing because after all, I no longer have a job and P is self employed. So, essentially the only proof we had with us at the dealership that either of us actually works for a living were P’s business cards. But here’s something I didn’t know and actually, Boomama shared with me that same day, once you’re in your mid-30’s, nobody cares about your source of income. They just figure if you have good credit by the time you’re 35, you must be doing something right and will gladly loan you buckets of money.
Who knew?
So, if you’re in your 20’s and reading this, just know that the American dream is alive and well and, if you pay all your bills on time, when you reach your mid-30’s you will be rewarded richly by the banks of America and allowed to go into debt.
God bless America.
It’s pure, consumer power.
Anyway, we were signing the papers and Jo EL walked in and said, “I knew if I made it look like a steak, you’d be back. Everybody’s gotta eat!”. Well, yes Jo EL, yes they do.
We said our goodbyes, he handed us the keys, and Caroline and I drove off in our new steak, otherwise known as a 2004 Volvo S60.
I’m just sad that Gulley and I didn’t get a chance to carpool to HEB in the Trailblazer at least once. It would have made a good story.