Having been married for twenty-four years, my husband and I have made more than a few car purchases, but it’s the time we didn’t purchase one that really stands out.
I’m a research before you buy kinda gal, so I had read up on negotiating and knowing how to get past all the tricky tactics car dealers might use, and I was ready.
Well, there was something about asking to see the dealer invoice for the vehicle and making sure it was the “real” invoice or some such. I’ve been trying to black this memory out since then, but at the time I knew the deets.
We test drove a Jeep and kinda liked it, but not crazy-gotta-have-it liked it, ya know? So, we decided to see what kind of deal we could strike. This was our fella.
We talked cheddar for a few, and then I asked to see the dealer invoice. He came back. I took one look at it and then got stupid.
Me: Now I ‘d like to see the real invoice, please.
Fella: That is the real invoice.
Me: No, it isn’t. I don’t believe you.
That’s when Fella turned into this guy.
He launched to his feet, steam exploded out of his ears, his face turned psychotically red, and he bellowed ferociously that he would not be selling us this car or any car on this day or any other.
As we were pulling out of the dealership, my husband said, You just called him a liar. Nobody wants to be called a liar.” I said, “I didn’t! I just said I didn’t believe him.” He just looked at me.
Note: (and my excuse) I was like 20 years old, people. I’m not that dumb anymore, I promise.