Serving notice

I apologize to all the car salespersons in our area, upon whom we are about to unleash ourselves in our quest for a new car. We have already accosted two of them, and they are undoubtedly at this very minute seeking either a) a new profession, b) a new therapist, or c) both.

It's not hard to see why. We ask deep, thoughtful questions that cause the car salespeople to pause, ponder, and in some cases reach for a bottle of Tylenol. For example, if a salesperson starts talking about such car features as torque, we might frown in concentration as he explains, and then ask one of those deep clarification questions, such as "Is that available in different colors?"

This is not to say that we don't do our homework on car buying. For example, as I drive I have studied the cars around me to the point where I can now recognize my favorite models, causing me to say, "Look, a  CX-5!" and swerve dangerously as I try to get a closer look to confirm that yes, it is indeed a CX-5, and the driver is now looking alarmed and is likely calling 911 on his Bluetooth to report a deranged driver.

One reason it is so difficult for us personally to buy a car is that the last time I was car shopping, cars had far fewer options. Either you could get the Flintstones model, with foot power, or the Dino model, foot power plus an extra turbo boost. The Hero's car dates to a much more modern time, roughly the Model T era. So we are understandably overwhelmed by the vast array of car options available today, including -- we were actually told this by a salesperson -- headlight technology that is used on spaceships.

Car salespeople have been known to be pushy, of course. It is not a requirement that you have actually met a salesperson for this to be true. In a span of a day and a half, I have received severald emails from three different salespeople at a particular dealership in which I have yet to step foot. The communication from them, beginning on a Monday, progressed thus:

Salesperson 1: We pride ourselves on providing our customers with a superior shopping experience. [Princess's note: Does this mean they have free samples of chocolate? And foot massages?] We are confident we can meet your expectations. Would it be convenient for you to come in next Sunday?

Salesperson 2, a couple of hours later: My manager [Salesperson 1] has informed me that you'll be in on Wednesday. I'm sure we can find just what you're interested in, take it for a test drive, and, hopefully, you'll be driving away in a new car.

Salesperson 2, one hour and thirteen minutes later: Did you get my earlier email? Cars are flying off the lot. You'd better hurry while there's still some choices available. We're all set for your visit tonight, or would it be easier for us to bring the car to wherever you are?

Me: Pick up my Thanksgiving turkey and a large pizza on your way here, and you've got a deal.

Of course I did not actually respond in this way, but I admit that the idea of them bringing the car right to you seems a stroke of genius. They drive a brand-new car to your house, park it prominently in your driveway, and let you strut around it while they go and knock on the doors of curious neighbors to invite them over. Tell me you are going to turn this car down if they ask whether you want to buy it.

Salesperson: So, ma'am, to make things a little smoother we brought all the paperwork with us --

You: Yes! Yes! Where do I sign?

Neighbor, reading paperwork over shoulder: Say, it's a little blurry -- is that 5% financing, or 50%?

Salesperson, shoving neighbor behind a bush: Ha ha! I think we can take care of the rest without an audience, don't you, ma'am? Now if you'll just sign right here...

It's important to keep the high-pressure tactics in perspective, however. You want to buy a car. The salesperson wants to sell you a car. But here your mutual goals end. Your goal is to pay as little as possible for your dream car. The salesperson's goal is to retire and have enough money to employ a personal valet who will carry him aloft on a litter to his pool at his house in Tuscany.

So, as we continue our own search for a car, we are mindful of one thing: We must wear down the salesperson first, or we might be the ones carrying him to the pool on that litter.