Seduced by Pearl White

     Barbara just had to have a new car. Not NEW new, but new to us. We don’t buy new cars. Bonnie, Barbara’s cute little HHR was just way too hard on her bad back, to her way of thinking.

     Barbara never considered herself to be a person who could wrangle a better deal out of a car salesman. Even when she was in business, in our photography studio, she was horrified if we accused her of using high pressure sales techniques, and I think her customers never considered her to be that way, either.

     But somehow, in showing her work to customers, through the course of the conversation, they just seemed to buy more pictures if Barbara was showing em’, than when anyone else did. I just never could figure out if Barbara worked a few notches below high pressure, or had some strange talent for elevating her technique, in some strange way, above standard high pressure techniques; if her customers were pressured, they never knew it.

Our children seem to have inherited sales ability from somewhere, and It certainly was not from me. Corey has never worked at a salary job in his life. He’s always worked on a commission sales job, or in his own business. He’s good, and he has never made any bones about his techniques. But even Corey, when he operated his high end photography business in Little Rock, realized Kinley, when he hired her to make sales presentations to his customers, always sold more than he could, or any of his other sales people. But she was different. She automatically, instantly, became a customer’s best friend, and again, in the course of the conversation between two good friends, the sales soared.

     When Kinley worked in sales for channel four, she soon became “The queen of the cold call.” When she finished up a cold call, other sales people around her would ask her, “How is it you always seem to already KNOW all these people you call? You’re always working from the same list of possible customers we are.” The sales manager eventually had others on the sales staff gather around in her office, and listen to her cold calls to instant friends.

     Let’s get back to Barbara’s new car. She had already decided what car she wanted, a Nissan Murano,     a couple of years old. She had ridden in one before, belonging to our friend Judy, and she knew it rode well. I told her on the way to Little Rock, this was her buy, her car. I would just be watching.

We went to Lander’s Toyota first, arriving about 10:00 AM. The nice young guy who came out to help us was a very good salesman. Barbara told him she was going to buy a Nissan Murano, today, one or two years old, and asked if he had one. He had three. After she had seen them all, she settled on the one she liked best. But she just could not make up her mind. Said she should probably go to the Nissan dealership, who had already described one he had, on the phone, just to compare.

     Now, I’ll have to say this. That business of not being able to make up her mind was not a haggling technique, It’s the way Barbara is. In a food line at a restaurant, I often get embarrassed, and the customers behind get impatient, waiting for her to decide between two seemingly minor items to put on her plate. Then, choosing a drink. She always seems to evaluate each and every plus or negative of each one. So, It’s just Barbara. She never, all day long, mentioned the possibility of them lowering the price.“This car is silver. Well, my last two were silver. I had hoped to change colors.”  The nice young man dropped the price a few hundred. She considered that for a long time. “Well, It IS really nice, and I really like the cute hubcaps and the miles it has. But the inside is dark, and it will really be hot.” The young man trimmed a few hundred more off the price.  After a few more rounds of  spotting possible drawbacks,  accompanied by more trimming, the young man retreated inside and brought out the big gun, the little Lander’s brother. After proper introductions, and Barbara going on about knowing his wife, how she knew her, etc., she went back to work on the car problem. “Well, I just can’t decide this so quickly. I just should drive over and at least see that other one at the Nissan dealership, then it will be easier, and that way I can think awhile.” The young salesman chipped in from time to time, in more of a begging tone now. The little Landers brother dropped a few more hundred. Barbara headed for our HHR, saying, “Well, before I buy, I’m just going to drive by that other one and look at it. I really like this car, but I’ve just got to be sure.” As we drove off, the young salesman was hollering, “Just drive by! It will be a lot quicker if you don’t stop at all!”

     As we drove in at Nissan, we saw Pearl White, Though at this point, that was only her official color, not yet her name, right beside the entrance.  Barb immediately liked her.  A very nice young man came out to greet us. He was also an opera singer, as well as a car salesman. “Hi! We’re going to buy a Murano today, and I love this one!” Barbara said. We looked Pearl White over, and he,with a big smile, took us inside to his desk to fix us a drink while our trade- in was evaluated. As she sat at his desk, she got a text.  The little Landers brother said he’d drop off another thousand.

     We went back out to look at Pearl again. “Oh   goodness. Her seats are very light colored. That will get dirty so fast!” Opera man drops 500 off.  “Are the seats automatic?” “No ma’am.” Opera man drops 500 more.  “That pearl white color is sooooo beautiful. But I just can’t seem to get over those light colored seats”.  “Let me get the manager over here.” Said opera man.  When he arrived, the problem was explained to him by Barbara. “I just love this car, but the other one we’re looking at has dark seats, won’t get dirty so easily.”  “Tell you what, ma’am, We’ll take it and get a professional job of scotch guarding done on the whole interior before you leave.” Barbara was impressed. “What about that little spot on the seat?” “We’ll get it professionally cleaned, too.” He took another few hundred off. I have been listening to so much of this, I was beginning to get into it. “Will you fill up the tank”? Barbara elbowed me in the ribs. “Stop being so picky over such tiny little money things! That’s crude!”  “Yes, of course we will.”  Barbara noticed that the tires seemed to have some wear on them. Opera man walked around showing the new tire tags, still showing on the bottom of each tire. Manager man left.  “Oh no! I just noticed this one does not have automatic lights!  Maybe I should just real quickly run over to Lander’s again. They’re right over there, and I need to see if its lights are automatic. And it’s much more sporty!  I just can’t make up my mind.” “Well, Ma’am, that other car IS a year older. And don’t forget that 68 month power train warranty that a non-Nissan dealer can’t give. But let me go talk to the manager again.”

     He returned. Finally, everyone involved was obviously about worn out, the two cars were about $100 apart in price, and A deal was struck. Barbara had been totally seduced by Pearl White, in only four hours or so. As we waited for the cleaning, scotch guarding, and filling up the tank, the manager walked over to Barbara, smiling, shaking his head and her hand.  “That was the best job of negotiating I’ve seen in a very long time. Just look at how much you got our man to come down.”

     We drove away. Barbara said, “I don’t know why he said that. He sounded like I was a haggler! I never even mentioned money! Haggling is such a man thing! Oh, my! It’s nearly five o’clock! And I was planning to eat lunch with Kinley, after we bought the car. This day has just FLOWN by!”

Barbara had her new car named before we got home; Pearl White.  And a string of pearls now adorns the rear view mirror, but not until after Barbara had considered this move for a few hours.

     “But do you think those pearls are not white enough to match the car? Do they look tacky up there? Do you think they block the view too much?” I didn’t say a thing. Sometimes, a little indecision can be a good thing, I had learned that day.

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This is a true story, as are most all of my posts. I'll let you know at the end if I stray off into fiction again, as I did in my last post.

Thanks for reading!
I think I've finally figured out how to make "commenting" easier. Now, just push the comment button, and it should work. I never claimed to be computer literate!