Doing the car-lot hop

When I noted that the used car I was sitting in smelled strongly of cigarette smoke, the car salesman nodded, shifted the toothpick to the other side of his mouth, and said, "Yep, folks does smoke in their cars. Nothing you can do about it."

Somehow, this sales pitch did not fill me with confidence, and neither did the salesman's habit of impinging upon my personal space. You know how sometimes overladen students lose track of the size of their backpacks and wallop unsuspecting strangers in the hallway? This salesman seemed utterly unaware of how far forward his belly extended. He looked like a man trying to smuggle a VW Beetle under his shirt. (Maybe that's how he acquires his smelly cars.)

In my continuing mission to replace my ailing Volvo, I've visited more than a dozen car lots in the past two weeks, including six today, and I can divide the car salesmen I've encountered into two basic groups: those who earned high marks at the "Join Our Family!" training sessions and those who did not.

The JOF! guys (and yes, they're ALL guys) wear khaki pants and golf shirts, display wholesome family photos on their desks, and talk about their family connections. "My father-in-law drives a car just like this," they say, or "The manager's wife has been driving this car and she's crazy about it." This morning I listened to a very pleasant fellow talking about his family's long history in the car business and the tremendous things they've done for the community, which would be great if I were interesting in joining a cult rather than buying a car.

The car salesmen who haven't drunk the JYF! Kool-Aid don't bother with the family patter; in fact, some of them don't bother with any patter at all. Some of these car lots must be surrounded by a force field rendering all unaccompanied women invisible.

Several lots were manned by guys whose customer service skills lacked polish, to put it kindly. In one, a gentle giant finally said to me, "No ma'am, I don't believe you'll find anything like that anywhere around here," which was better than the guy who just laughed in my face. What? This isn't rocket science: all I'm asking for is a reliable four-door sedan with under 75,000 miles on it for a price I can afford. (With cup-holders!)

One kind of sales pitch came up at two different places today and I'm not sure how to interpret it: "I used to work at one of those high-pressure dealerships but I had to leave because I'm really not comfortable with high-pressure sales." Is this a sincere statement eschewing high-pressure sales pitches or a high-pressure sales pitch cleverly disguised as a sincere statement eschewing high-pressure sales pitches? If I ask the salesman, would he be able to answer?

Yep, folks does smoke-screen their cars. Nothing you can do about it.