M&Ms and Trade-Ins

Did you ever purchase a package of peanut M&Ms only to bite into one or two that didn’t have the peanut inside?

You feel cheated. You were expecting to experience the great taste of peanut and chocolate, but ended up experiencing a plain M&M.

How about this one?

Have you been to a car dealership to purchase a car lately?

Did you go in with a vehicle to trade-in with high hopes of that vehicle being used as a down payment on a new vehicle, only to have the dealership give you an offer on your trade-in that equaled the price of a bag of M&Ms?

What is that about?

This is one of the main reasons I hate to purchase a new vehicle. I hate to play the car buying game. Now I’ll be the first to admit, a PH.D I do not have, but I know enough to tell when someone’s trying to get one up on me.

My wife and I have been to 6 separate dealerships in the Round Rock area in the past 2 weeks as we search for the perfect vehicle to replace our older, less mechanically superior van. We’ve looked at Dodges, Fords, Jeeps and Nissans in an effort to purchase the perfect vehicle that will make all of the world’s problems go away.

First we talk the salesperson into the best deal they can give us (or the best deal they can give us and still make a huge profit). Then we get into the best APR. Now up until that point, things are going smooth.

Next, we enter into “negotiations” over what I think the trade-in is worth and what the dealership thinks the trade-in is worth.

This is were the wheels fall off the cart.

“Mr. Fairchild, your car has significant milage, but we’ll make you an offer that you will be extremely happy with.” says the happy little salesperson. “I’m gonna go over here and talk to our finance guy and together, we’re gonna get with our trade-in guy and see what we can come up with.”

This is car salesperson code for “I’m gonna make you sit here and wait for a while, while me and the other guys talk about Sunday’s Cowboys game.”

The salesperson is gone long enough for me to play a game of Texas Hold’em on by cell phone…which really isn’t too horribly long because I’m not really that good at poker.

“We’ll Mr. Fairchild, I think you’re gonna be happy with our offer,” they say, “The condition of the van is good, there are no dents, chipped paint, body frame damage and the motor seems to be in good shape…”

At this point I generally begin to daydream about driving off the lot in my new vehicle. My wife is at my side and the kids are laughing joyously in the back as they examine in giddy wonder the nice, new, shiny machine their dad just purchased.

“The only problem we have with your trade in vehicle is that it has over 100,000 miles.”

Daydream over.

“But we want to earn your business, so we’re ready to offer you a good deal on your trade-in.” they say.

This statement puts me back into daydream mode.

“We’re willing to offer you $500 for your trade in.”

My daydream comes to an abrupt stop once again.

“I’m sorry, for a minute I though you said $500”I say.

After all, the Blue Book price for our particular car is $3000.

This is when the sales person offers $750 and informs me that the dealership will be taking quite a beating on the deal, but to earn my business, they’ll take the loss.

“I’m sorry, for a minute I though you said $750” I repeat with what must be a dumbfounded look on my face.

“If we give you $1000, would that seal the deal?” they ask.

This is when I generally get up nice and casually like, tell the salesperson it was nice to meet them and meander on out the door leaving that dealership and heading to the next one in hopes of having a real offer for my trade-in.

“Why must this game be so frustrating?” I think to myself.

The next dealership is pretty much the same, except they offer me a bottle of water to wash down their offer.

On that note, I head home and call it a day. After a whole day of playing the car buying game, it’s time to relax and take in a little Dancing With The Stars with the wife and kids.

Afterwards, I’ll sit down at my computer and research more local dealership’s “special offers”. And as I do, I’ll listen to a Sinatra CD, have an ice cold Dublin Dr. Pepper and enjoy a new package of peanut M&Ms.

F.O.R.G.O.T.

It has recently come to my attention that there is a secret society that exists in the US that we all should be made aware of. Its sole purpose is to cause confusion and chaos in an attempt to rob us of our sanity.

 

They speak not a word, yet their actions speak volumes. Yes, their very actions can send even the most calm and laid back person into an uncontrollable rage and even to the brink of insanity.

 

These evil doers are known to society as of the Fraternal Order of Righteous and Grand Oblivious Turners or F.O.R.G.O.T.

 

They can be noticed a mile away (depending on traffic, weather and cleanliness of the car they drive). They are the ones whose blinkers are always on.

 

These men and women find pleasure in making their victims believe one thing is going to happen while secretly planning to do just the opposite.

 

They use their one weapon, the blinker, with such skill and cunning that even the most accomplished high performance race car drivers cannot avoid their traps.

 

You need only be driving down the road minding your own business.

 

Out of nowhere you will notice a car driving in the lane to the right of you. They are enough ahead of you that you can see their right blinker is on as if the direction they want to go is to the right somewhere in the near future.

 

Assuming they are about to merge or turn right you pay them little attention. After all, the right blinker is flashing away like a wicked strobe light from a ^70’s disco club and you are to their left.

 

Just then, they whip in front of you with no warning.

 

You first hit your breaks to avoid collision and then double check to make sure the smell you now notice is from the week old tuna sandwich which your child left under the seat or perhaps an odor that was emitted from you the very second your body tightened up to brace for the impact you just avoided.

 

“You really bad driver” you shout, hurting the eardrums of the coworkers riding with you causing them to stop concentrating on where the rotten tuna smell is coming from in your vehicle and start concentrating on whether or not the preexisting tuna smell is covering up the smell they too emitted when they tensed up in expectation of impact .

 

“You really bad driver” is but one phrase that you could use to express your opinion of the driver’s ability though there are several others that have been recorded throughout the years.

 

Over the next mile or so, you realize that the driver of the vehicle in front of you is not turning his or her right signal indicator off.

 

You also realize that he or she has had several opportunities by this time to merge or turn right as their blinker indicates, but they instead remain constantly in front of you.

 

Your blood begins to boil as you turn your cruise control off because the once constant set speed is no longer attainable due to the ridiculous fluctuations in speed (anywhere from 35 to 66mph) of the car in front of you that is quickly becoming a thorn in your side.

 

The next 5 miles are miserable as you are forced to look at the steadily blinking turn signal as it seems to yell out “prepare for me to veer right, I’m going to turn right, I need to turn right, right…” but never does.

 

Only once you’ve reached a mental state that would be found worthy of an overnight stay at a mental institution do you decide to make your move.

 

At the first opportunity, you merge into the right hand lane.

 

There is just enough space to get past the annoying vehicle and you break free. As you pass you express to the driver how disappointed you are in their driving style, either verbally, via an ever so slight bump on the hooter or by using the international hand symbol for “you’re a bad driver” that you learned from your uncle while looking for a parking place at a college football game in 1981.

 

This is when they typically begin what is known as “The Big Act”. They act as if they are surprised, even frightened by your accusations and slow down as if to escape a deranged mad man.

 

The looks on their faces are priceless.

 

They honestly appear afraid of you and pretend that the whole ritual they just put you through was not intentional at all and that you are the aggressor not them.

 

They now execute to perfection their escape by pretending to be so afraid of you and the things you’ve been uncontrollably shouting at them that all they want to do is put more cars between you and them.

 

The blinker is now being used properly in an effort to exit stage right, or in this case exit from the road to the right as soon as possible, probably to go plan their next attack on some poor unsuspecting victim.

 

You have just come in contact with a member of F.O.R.G.O.T.

 

These tactics have been used since the Fraternal Order of the Righteous and Grand Turners was established in the early 1900’s by small town farmers and ranchers who thought farm to market roads were created specifically for them, and that “city folk” should stay off.

 

The initial members of F.O.R.G.O.T. soon learned that their wives could cause just as much, if not more, frustration and confusion and women were soon allowed into the Fraternal Order of Righteous and Grand Oblivious Turners.

 

Let this be a warning. The next time you see a car ahead of you and its blinker is not turning off (left, right doesn’t matter), find an alternate path to your destination. It might very well save your sanity.