The car.

“I’ll get on that right now,” said Salesguy. “I’ll call you back when I’ve found one.” (By the way, that would be the day those of you on the notify list got the link to the current day’s entry along with a cryptic note about wanting to kick someone’s teeth in. Or something along those lines, I don’t really remember anymore exactly what I said.) And then two weeks pass. At one point, Salesguy claims that he’s located a vehicle in Birmingham, and he’s sent a guy to go down to pick it up. A few days pass with no word. I harass Fred to call Salesguy. Salesguy says Oh! Right, the car! Well, I sent a guy down to get it, only somehow when he got there to pick it up, the dealer had sold it. I’ll keep looking. By now I’m getting worried, because the first payment is due on the silver (which was supposed to be yellow by now, only – whoops! Salesguy claimed that we could get a professional paint job for $800 – $1000, but it appears that he was lying through his teeth to make the sale. Gosh, I wonder how it is that car salesmen get a bad reputation? It’s a mystery.) Aerio, and what the hell am I supposed to do? Do I send in the first payment, or wait until I get my blue car, or what? Salesguy says to just wait. When the blue car gets here, they’ll cancel the loan for the silver car, and write a whole new loan for the blue one. So I tear up the check and sit back to wait. Some more. Because I haven’t done enough waiting. At ALL. Days pass. Fred begins calling Salesguy every single day to see what the fuck is going on. Every day it’s a new story, and finally Salesguy says that he’s pretty sure they’re just going to have to get one right “off the boat”, because he’s having a hell of a time finding any in the area. Friday, Salesguy calls. “We’ve got one coming off the boat,” he says. “In Florida. It’ll be here this weekend, I think.” The weekend passes. Monday morning, salesguy says “Oh, the car will be here tonight. I think we can get this done and the paperwork signed tomorrow!” Fred tells me this. I am thrilled. Tuesday morning comes. Fred’s phone rings. It’s Salesguy. “Golly,” says the Lying Sack of Shit Salesguy who cannot possibly tell one complete truth to save his goddamn fucking life. Oh hey, that bible in the corner of your office? Nice touch. “It seems that because of the transfer of title (from the paperwork Fred signed), the silver car is now viewed as used. We can still get you the blue car, but the monthly payment will increase by $61.” Um, no. FUCK NO. Fred doesn’t even have to call and check with me – it is NOT ACCEPTABLE and we all know it. “Lying Sack of Shit Salesguy,” Fred says. “You need to figure out how to make this right. You’ve been dicking us around for weeks now, and if you fuck me on this, I’m never going to buy another car from you ever again.” Lying Sack of Shit Salesguy continues the fucking shuck-and-jive he’s been performing for weeks and weeks now. He has to talk to his sales manager! He’s on our side! He’s going to do everything he can! The sales manager calls Fred and basically acts like an asshole. “This is the first I’ve heard of this!” he says. Like this is somehow our fault? Do buyers usually make a practice of being sure that the sales manager has a fucking clue what’s going on directly under his nose? Would he like us to stop by and wipe his ass twice a day as well? “So, what? You just want this whole thing (the sale of the silver car) to go away like it never happened?” he says accusingly. “I’d like Salesguy to stand up to the promise he made,” Fred says. “He promised me that we could get a blue car instead of the silver, and that the payment would be the same.” Sales manager hems and haws. He has to check with someone else. He’ll call back. “You tell that fucking piece of shit that he has until 5:00 and then we’re done,” I said. Fred relayed the message. At some point Lying Sack of Shit Salesguy called to say that they were moving up the chain of command to “see” if there was “anything” they could do. “I think I own a goddamn silver car,” I said to Fred at 3:00. “I own a goddamn silver car,” I said to Fred when 5:00 had come and gone and neither Asshole Sales Manager nor Lying Sack of Shit Salesguy had bothered to call. “Take your phone with you,” I said when Fred was getting ready to take a nice relaxing bath after dinner. Around 5:45 I could hear from downstairs when Fred turned the jets off. I knew without a doubt that it was Asshole Sales Manager and when Fred didn’t use his cell phone to call my cell phone to let me know otherwise (we r so hi-t3ch. Also, l33t), I knew I was stuck with a FUCKING SILVER CAR. No. We are not suing. Don’t even suggest it, because we’re not suing. I have a silver car. I’ve never, in my entire life, wanted a silver car. I’ve wanted a yellow car for-fucking-EVER, and failing that I’d take a blue car. Even a red one! But no. I have silver. Despite the color (and don’t get me wrong, it’s pretty. But I don’t want to own a silver car) I do like the car. I love driving a little car instead of the huge behemoth I was driving. I love that it has a 6-CD changer, I love that it has adjustable cup holders, it drives like a fucking dream. It’s an awesome little car, and I love it. The color? I don’t so much love it. (I’m not insulting you silver car owners, am I? Because I love yellow cars, but I understand that some of you hate yellow cars, and I know it’s nothing personal, it’s just a matter of personal preference. Y’know?) So, no. Not going to sue. But I did get a survey from JD Power and Associates. A “Suzuki Sales Satisfaction Survey”, to be exact. And not only is there an entire section entitled “Working with your salesperson”, there’s also this question: “How likely are you to purchase/ lease another Suzuki from the same dealership.” as well as “How likely are you to recommend the dealership from which you purchased/ leased your Suzuki to a friend or relative.” Also, a comment section on the back of the form. You can bet your ass I’ll be filling that survey out completely. Edited to add: Also, Fred will be contacting the CEO of Suzuki in the next few days. I will, of course, let you know what happens! I’ll be kind – I won’t even tell you the name of the dealership or Lying Sack of Shit Salesguy. But I will tell you that if you’re in this area and looking to buy a Suzuki? Don’t buy it in Huntsville or Madison. Buy it anywhere BUT Huntsville or Decatur. I understand there aren’t as many Lying Sack of Shit Salesguys in other dealerships. Before you bring it up, yes. Perhaps we ARE the very epitome of naive for stupidly thinking that a car salesman would (gasp!) tell us the truth, and continuing to believe him when he told us, time after time, that he was “working” on getting that blue car. But we’ve learned our lesson, and if you are a car salesman reading this? You can thank Lying Sack of Shit Salesguy for the fact that we have learned that car salesman are big fat fucking liars. “Can I kill him, Mom, can I, can I, huh?”]]>