guilty, guilty

Nothing to make you feel slimy like a walk through an auto dealership. The wife and I were out "just looking," and we really were, honest. I hate to waste salespeoples' time. I used to sell computers on commission for a Big-Box Retailer That Will Not Be Named*, so I know how what little tricks salesmen** pull, and I know the rules commissioned salesguys follow. First and foremost: whoever talks first to the customer owns the customer. Secondly: once your customer, always your customer. Third: once your customer, always your customer.

Not surprisingly, most of the salesmen we encountered were brusque and aggressive. A typical exchange between a salesguy and [the two of us]:

Hi there!

[Looking away, trying desperately to avoid eye contact, glancing at the sky, the cars around, neighboring victims]

Great weather we're having!

[It's been raining off-and-on; sure, okay.]

You're here to buy today, aren't you? Because my children are starving, and yours are crowded in the back seat of a tiny sub-sub-compact, aren't they?

[Actually, we don't have kids.]

I love kids, they're great! What are you looking for, then, a big SUV? A Lexus?

[Umm... we're not sure. We're just looking. Just starting out. Haven't even researched yet. Don't talk to us, because we're going to waste your time.]

Okay, then, have a look around... We got some great cars here, new and used, uh-huh, yeah, my name's [Fred, Chuck, Joe, Jim, Freddie, Chuckie, Joey, Jimmy; I can't remember] and I'll be right over there, sulking and skulking, and waiting to descend like a vulture when you make a move toward any particular model. Okay?

[Glancing at each other, nodding. We walk around the lot for a little while, don't see anything we like, and begin to walk back toward our car. All of a sudden a new salesman descends from the pack huddled by the office, and attempts to strike up a conversation.]

HI THERE.

[Um... hi. We're just looking. We already spoke with someone.]

MY NAME'S RYAN (extends a sweaty palm; receives from me a halfhearted handshake)

[Honestly, we already talked to someone, and we're just looking.]

YOU DON'T LIKE TO TALK TO PEOPLE, IS THAT IT?

[awkward pause]

(Salesman begins to glower, brows furrowing, hands balling up into fists)
GEEZ, WHAT'S THE PROBLEM? DON'T WANNA TALK TO PEOPLE?

[quick-stepping to the car, beating a hasty exit]

The guy takes personal umbrage at the fact that we have already been pestered, and aren't ready for more. Never mind that he's a predator, stealing his coworker's customer. As we drive away, the manager steps out toward the car, looking like he wants to talk to us, see if maybe there's something wrong, or perhaps to defend his sales lummoxes. We don't stop.

Oh, and the dealership that creeps us out: All-Star Ford, on the east side of Olympia, for what it's worth.

*Sadly, they don't any more; their employees are just as crappy and hard-to-find as anyone else's, in my last few experiences as a shopper.

**In the world of computer and car sales, that's what gender you're dealing with, overwhelmingly.