Frustrated, Disappointed, and Annoyed
Lending one’s car long-term to their sister will certainly increase the need to purchase another car. Since Martin has 6 or 7 times as many vehicles as I do, he became the poor soul that I hit up for a lender vehicle until I actually purchase another car.
My search thus far has certainly been frustrating. I’ve made phone calls, surfed the Internet, stopped in at a few places, and left my name and number with sales people—all with no luck. I certainly have my ideas about what I’m looking for (power locks and windows are not optional this time) and, seemingly, that particular car (in my price range) does not exist.
Martin is my in-resident (well, almost in-resident) consultant for buying a car, so if a car not Martin-approved then it’s just not approved. His philosophy is that if it (any car) isn’t a good deal, there’s no point in buying it. I agree. His track record in getting deals has been pretty good so far so I am relying heavily on him to work a good deal for me as well.
On Tuesday of this week Martin went with me to look at a car. The car is what I’ve been looking for: 2001 Honda Accord with all of the amenities—pretty much every option that I want except that the car is black. Black is not a good color for someone who does not take the time to wash their car every week or so, but I figured that I could live with the color if everything else worked out. The only thing that made the car an affordable option was that it weathered a hailstorm recently. While I’d love to have a perfect car, right now I’m more concerned about the comforts inside and the reliability under the hood than I am about a few dents. After all, it’s what’s inside that counts, right? The Perfect Car will just have to wait until After College.
Martin was pretty sure that he wouldn’t be willing to give the $6200 they were asking for the car. In my heart, I was already brumming down the road in the car. He asked me if I was going to be willing to walk away from the car if they wouldn’t budge on the price. I steeled myself and told him that I would walk away with him if he decided that it wasn’t a good deal.
The dealer had e-mailed some pictures to me and told me that an insurance adjustor told them that it would take approximately $3700 to fix the car. If added to the $6200 they were asking for the car, that would essentially mean that I would pay $9900 for the car. (Not that I was planning to fix the dents, but still, these things must be considered.) If I ever chose to sell the car, the resale value would be forever ruined because of the hail damage and it didn’t seem as though they were allowing anything for that factor.
When we arrived, a grouchy-looking old codger came to meet us. He brought the keys to us so Martin could start the car up. Martin asked if we could take the car for a test-drive, and he said we could. He silently climbed into the back seat, like he was afraid we might run off in the car even though gas gauge was on E. Martin tried occasionally to make small talk with him but all he got was one or two word answers.
We took the car back to the sales lot. The car really appeared to have been heavily used by previous owners—a side airbag light came on, the rearview mirror fell off when Martin tried to adjust it, there were multiple scratches and chips in the paint, the back taillight was holding about a half inch of water, etc. Martin pushed, poked, and prodded with the old guy standing and watching like a hawk the whole time. He finally made him an offer. By this time, after seeing the condition of the car, I wasn’t even sure that I was willing to give what Martin offered. “Nope,” the guy said, “We won’t take any less.”
“Well, we’re not interested in it at that price,” Martin said. We both turned and walked away without a backward glance. And I didn’t even care. Oh, I was disappointed that the trip had been in vain and that I was still car-less, but it hadn’t taken long to detach myself emotionally from the car, given the attitude of the owner and the condition of the car.
After leaving the car lot, we stopped to get a drink and I drowned my sorrows in beer…root beer, that is. (It ended up backfiring on me a few hours later when I desperately wanted a restroom.) We stopped at a number of car lots on our way back home but everyone just wants too much for their cars.
Our last stop was at a lot where we’ve purchased at least 4 vehicles over the last 15 years. They didn’t have anything that fit the criteria either. Martin told him that I’m “looking for an import with around 100,000 miles for under $6k.” I left my name and number with a guy there and he assured me that he’d find something for me by the weekend.
Fast forward to this afternoon…my cell phone rang and I answered it. It was Keith from the car lot and he wasn’t sure that what he had fit exactly what I was looking for but he thought that he’d at least run it by me. He has a ’97 Ford Escort Wagon there. He had taken it for a test drive himself and was pretty sure that it’s a good little car. He thought that they could get it to me for what I’ve got, “maybe a little less.” He couldn’t tell me what the exact mileage was, what model it was, or any other specifics. I told him that I didn’t think I’d be happy with the car but to keep looking.
Just out of curiosity, I looked the value of the car up on the Internet after I got off the phone with him. In the best-case scenario, the retail value (that I’m not willing to pay) is $2600. “Maybe a little less”? Give me a break!! Now I know that I’m not exactly the world’s most knowledgeable person when it comes to cars, but I’m NOT a complete idiot either. He should have said that he should be able to get me into the car for “a little bit of nothing.”
The more I think about his little trick, the more disgusted I get. My trust for that man has flown straight out the window! He has destroyed his credibility with me. That’s the thing that annoys me so much about car salesmen—they can be so patronizing! They seem to think that because (most, including me) women don’t know much about cars they can just rip them off. What he needs about right now is a news flash—“Docile-Looking Mennonite Woman Discovered to Have Brain Activity Under Bonnet.”
And so the search continues.
My search thus far has certainly been frustrating. I’ve made phone calls, surfed the Internet, stopped in at a few places, and left my name and number with sales people—all with no luck. I certainly have my ideas about what I’m looking for (power locks and windows are not optional this time) and, seemingly, that particular car (in my price range) does not exist.
Martin is my in-resident (well, almost in-resident) consultant for buying a car, so if a car not Martin-approved then it’s just not approved. His philosophy is that if it (any car) isn’t a good deal, there’s no point in buying it. I agree. His track record in getting deals has been pretty good so far so I am relying heavily on him to work a good deal for me as well.
On Tuesday of this week Martin went with me to look at a car. The car is what I’ve been looking for: 2001 Honda Accord with all of the amenities—pretty much every option that I want except that the car is black. Black is not a good color for someone who does not take the time to wash their car every week or so, but I figured that I could live with the color if everything else worked out. The only thing that made the car an affordable option was that it weathered a hailstorm recently. While I’d love to have a perfect car, right now I’m more concerned about the comforts inside and the reliability under the hood than I am about a few dents. After all, it’s what’s inside that counts, right? The Perfect Car will just have to wait until After College.
Martin was pretty sure that he wouldn’t be willing to give the $6200 they were asking for the car. In my heart, I was already brumming down the road in the car. He asked me if I was going to be willing to walk away from the car if they wouldn’t budge on the price. I steeled myself and told him that I would walk away with him if he decided that it wasn’t a good deal.
The dealer had e-mailed some pictures to me and told me that an insurance adjustor told them that it would take approximately $3700 to fix the car. If added to the $6200 they were asking for the car, that would essentially mean that I would pay $9900 for the car. (Not that I was planning to fix the dents, but still, these things must be considered.) If I ever chose to sell the car, the resale value would be forever ruined because of the hail damage and it didn’t seem as though they were allowing anything for that factor.
When we arrived, a grouchy-looking old codger came to meet us. He brought the keys to us so Martin could start the car up. Martin asked if we could take the car for a test-drive, and he said we could. He silently climbed into the back seat, like he was afraid we might run off in the car even though gas gauge was on E. Martin tried occasionally to make small talk with him but all he got was one or two word answers.
We took the car back to the sales lot. The car really appeared to have been heavily used by previous owners—a side airbag light came on, the rearview mirror fell off when Martin tried to adjust it, there were multiple scratches and chips in the paint, the back taillight was holding about a half inch of water, etc. Martin pushed, poked, and prodded with the old guy standing and watching like a hawk the whole time. He finally made him an offer. By this time, after seeing the condition of the car, I wasn’t even sure that I was willing to give what Martin offered. “Nope,” the guy said, “We won’t take any less.”
“Well, we’re not interested in it at that price,” Martin said. We both turned and walked away without a backward glance. And I didn’t even care. Oh, I was disappointed that the trip had been in vain and that I was still car-less, but it hadn’t taken long to detach myself emotionally from the car, given the attitude of the owner and the condition of the car.
After leaving the car lot, we stopped to get a drink and I drowned my sorrows in beer…root beer, that is. (It ended up backfiring on me a few hours later when I desperately wanted a restroom.) We stopped at a number of car lots on our way back home but everyone just wants too much for their cars.
Our last stop was at a lot where we’ve purchased at least 4 vehicles over the last 15 years. They didn’t have anything that fit the criteria either. Martin told him that I’m “looking for an import with around 100,000 miles for under $6k.” I left my name and number with a guy there and he assured me that he’d find something for me by the weekend.
Fast forward to this afternoon…my cell phone rang and I answered it. It was Keith from the car lot and he wasn’t sure that what he had fit exactly what I was looking for but he thought that he’d at least run it by me. He has a ’97 Ford Escort Wagon there. He had taken it for a test drive himself and was pretty sure that it’s a good little car. He thought that they could get it to me for what I’ve got, “maybe a little less.” He couldn’t tell me what the exact mileage was, what model it was, or any other specifics. I told him that I didn’t think I’d be happy with the car but to keep looking.
Just out of curiosity, I looked the value of the car up on the Internet after I got off the phone with him. In the best-case scenario, the retail value (that I’m not willing to pay) is $2600. “Maybe a little less”? Give me a break!! Now I know that I’m not exactly the world’s most knowledgeable person when it comes to cars, but I’m NOT a complete idiot either. He should have said that he should be able to get me into the car for “a little bit of nothing.”
The more I think about his little trick, the more disgusted I get. My trust for that man has flown straight out the window! He has destroyed his credibility with me. That’s the thing that annoys me so much about car salesmen—they can be so patronizing! They seem to think that because (most, including me) women don’t know much about cars they can just rip them off. What he needs about right now is a news flash—“Docile-Looking Mennonite Woman Discovered to Have Brain Activity Under Bonnet.”
And so the search continues.
posted by Sharon @ 6:20 PM
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