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Ways to bring a salesman to his knees
By Mark W. Mayfield
As we walk toward the car lot, I whisper a few last-minute instructions to my wife. "Don't make eye contact! When you make eye contact with a salesman, he'll send you powerful psychic signals that destroy your ability to resist a sales pitch.
"Remember when we made eye contact with that real estate agent in '95? By the time we came to our senses, we were moving into a house we could barely afford.
"And don't smile. Smiling at a car salesman is like feeding a stray cat. They'll never go away. Remember that stray cat you fed a few months ago? Now he's sleeping in our garage and acting like he owns the place. Do you want a car salesman sleeping in our garage? I don't.
"Oh, and one more thing; I'll do all the talking. Car shopping is war. A defenseless woman could get hurt."
My wife nods in that special way that silently asks, "Why did I ever marry you?"
As soon as we set foot on the lot, a smiling, well-dressed young man approaches us. I quickly launch a pre-emptive verbal strike: "Stop right there! We're just looking! We have absolutely no intention of buying a car! We don't have a down payment! We don't have a trade-in! We don't have good credit! Heck, we don't even have jobs! In fact, we're violent prison escapees looking for a hiding place! And even if we could afford a new car, we couldn't drive it because we belong to a religion that believes automobiles are tools of Satan!"
The kid ignores my outburst and continues his advance. "Sir, I'm just the greeter," he cheerfully says. "My job is to welcome you to our dealership. The guy behind you is the salesman. He'll be happy to answer any questions you may have."
"A brilliant tactic!" I exclaim. "You create a diversion while he sneaks up behind me. And now you want me to turn around and make eye contact with the salesman, don't you? Well, Mr. Sneaky Greeter, I'm not falling for your devious little scheme. I'm looking down at my shoes until I leave this hell hole."
"What kind of vehicle are you looking for?" the salesman politely asks.
"I know what you're trying to do," I accusingly reply while turning around and looking at the salesman's shoes. "You're trying to erode my defenses with your smooth voice and friendly disposition. You're good pal, but you're not getting any information from me."
"I'll bet you're a truck guy," he says pleasantly.
"OK, maybe I am a truck guy, and maybe I love that metallic gray one, the one with the extended cab, tinted glass, power windows and reclining seats with lumbar support. But even if I were looking for a new truck, I'd never pay the sticker price." At this point, I bravely look directly into the salesman's eyes and use my superhuman strength to resist his powerful psychic rays.
"Why don't you go talk to your manager?" I suggest with eerie self-assurance. "Perhaps he can lower the price because it's late and he wants to go home, or because he's just one vehicle away from breaking an all-time sales record, or because he has to make room for the new models, or because all vehicles must be sold at or below dealer invoice!"
I wink at the salesman to let him know that two can play at this game. Puzzled by the sudden ineffectiveness of his psychic powers, the salesman nervously replies, "I'm sorry, sir, but I can't sell this truck for less."
"But that's more than my parents paid for their first house!" I exclaim.
"Yes," he says, "but did your parents' first house have dual airbags, a powerful fuel-injected V-8, sporty aluminum wheels and smooth ride suspension?"
"Good point," I reply. "We'll take the truck!" I wink at him again to let him know that he was just defeated by a superior negotiator.
As my vanquished opponent shamefully slinks away to prepare the purchase papers, I lean toward my awestruck wife and whisper, "That's how you put a car salesman in his place." She looks at me with that special wifely expression of hers, the one I haven't quite figured out.
Mark W. Mayfield (markmayfield@mindspring.com) still can't believe that the salesman fell for the old "parents'-first-house" trick.
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Sunnyvale, California Since 1994
