On Saturday my husband and I did the most abhorrent thing you can imagine. No, not sliding down a giant razor blade into a pool of lemon juice. Far, far worse than that. We went and looked at a car.
Now let me preface this by saying the last time I bought a new car was in 2004. Since then I have bought two used vehicles and therefore had no need to step into a car dealership. My experience was so horrible in 2004 that it was an activity I wouldn't say I avoided- but was very happy to do without. Sort of like getting malaria.
But this past weekend we decided to just look at a car we have seen and admired. It's the Kia Soul. Yes, we were totally taken in by the hamster commercial.
I admit when marketing savvy gets to me and this is one of those instances. Lord only knows why giant rodents dressed as gangsta rappers touched my soul, but the Soul was indeed on my mind after humming to myself, 'you can get wit dis or you can get wit dat.' I only hoped someone at the dealership cleaned the giant hamster turds out of the vehicle before I test drove it. I was also looking forward to seeing the massive leaves of lettuce those bastards must eat.
Now when I say we were just looking, I mean it. There was none of this, 'we'll just tell the salesman we're just looking to get a better deal' nonsense. I really couldn't have bought the car that day. I have to sell something else first and just wanted to LOOK AND TEST DRIVE THE FREAKING VEHICLE NOT TELL YOU ABOUT MY LIFE AND BANTER WHILE YOU PRETEND TO BE MY FRIEND WHILE SIMULTANEOUSLY BENDING ME OVER TO SEE JUST HOW BIG A SCREWING YOU CAN GIVE ME.
Without going into the details of what happened, here's what I want to know: Are all car salesman the scum of the Earth? Are they all fake, lying, slimy bantering, arse kissing fuckfaces? Or is it just the few who I've dealt with? They all have the same way about them. They are so slimy they leave a trail of sludge on the ground where they've walked and are so slippery they could probably go down a water slide that is turned off for the winter. I also loathe the fly by night desks they have. You know the ones I mean? Where they basically sit down at a different desk each day and put their two obligatory photos up with the pictures that probably came with the frame? I'm not positive, but I think my salesman cut and pasted his head onto a photo of another man with his arms around a woman to say, 'this is my wife' during our conversation. We also got interrupted by a phone call from his 'sick wife'.
I may be just grouchy here, but I think that was a sales ploy. Honestly. I bet his 'sick wife' call was just the General Manager telling him how if he didn't sell us this car today he might as well kiss his sweet ass goodbye and go beg for his job at the Yugo dealership back. Dude, my sympathy for your fake wife who is fake sick isn't gonna make me buy this stupid freaking car. Maybe if she dies and we help you bury her, and you give me the car for free, her existence and illness could have some bearing on this conversation. If not, then shut the hell up about your supposed spouse and her infected vag.
Okay, he said nothing about an infected vag, but that's what I assume a man would imagine if he were already imagining a wife and imagined wife had an imagined illness, and said man were constantly forced to watch giant anthropomorphic hamstars (yes that's how Kia spells it) all day.
And to be honest, after that experience, I'd rather have an infected vag for the rest of my godforsaken life than go back to that dealership. Sorry Kia. I'm going to have to go buy some other crap car instead of yours. Why? Cause I've got an infected vag and I think I caught if off your salesman's fake wife. She must've sat on the same chair I did.
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