Kicking Tires

“You’re so lucky! This is the last one of this model on the lot.” He escorts us to the far end of the impressive expanse of asphalt real estate.

Mark registers mock horror as a game show “wrong answer” buzz emanates from his pocket.

“What was THAT?” the car salesman asks.

“Oh, so sorry… that was my ‘Bull-shit detector’ going off.” my husband replies.

Our two daughters and I giggle. It's really funny. I feel for the guy, but I'm only the teeniest bit embarrassed for him.

Undaunted, the salesman walks on, looking from one to the other of us, guffawing in a jovial, good-sport sort of way. Maybe he really believes his is the best dealership in the world.

We look over the Dodge Caravan and decide it really isn’t for us after all.

Next stop is to test drive the new Toyota Van at yet another dealership. In 1983, we've had to put $100 down simply to get an appointment to look at this hot ticket item from Japan, where its prototype has been test driven for a decade or more as a taxi. We like it fine, but Mark balks at the price tag, lack of wiggle room for negotiating, and the arrogance of the individual salesman. Eventually, it will be the car which we buy, after some obligatory haggling. We enjoyed that car for eight years before trading it for a coffee table made by an artist friend.

If you’re in the market to buy a car - new or used, there’s no better companion to bring with you than my husband. He and his inspired questions, choreography, and patented bullshit detector are guaranteed to get you the best deal.

Imagine, then how hard it is for him to sit back on the side-lines and only be an online cheerleader. (Online as in telephone consult, not computer contact... and not in person.) Our daughter is in process of negotiating with various car dealers in the Bay Area. She knows what she wants, and has been doing R & D to narrow the field for the specific details on her wish list, and to find out who is offering the best deal.

I’m so proud of her for standing her ground with several prototypical sleazeball salesmen.

The tricky parental-involvement-dance between gentle encouragement / cheerleading, and sharing just the right amount of information borne of experience deserves careful practice. We want her to feel empowered, and also get the best deal she can.

So far, so good. She’s got the dealership, the salesman, and the car lined up… now it’s a simple waiting game while the details are being ironed out. By tomorrow afternoon, we hope she has a new car! (well, a new for her 2013 car!)

If not, it's back to Research and Development and more kicking of Tires.