It’s All About The Chrome

It’s All About The Chrome

By

Leo de Natale

Illustrations by Vince Giovannucci

          It was the last week of April, 2021 and all Dr. Vito Di Stronzo wanted was a new car.  In his 65 years he dreaded a time that affects us all: dealing with car people and the labyrinthine  world of automobiles sales.  Everyone has a personal story of getting screwed over by a mendacious salesmen.  In today’s world,  car dealerships have spawned a new twist:  both buyer and seller are using the internet during this mercantile courtship.  Like most of today’s societal changes, car buying has undergone depersonalization.

Many consumers conduct car purchases via computer, cell phone or laptop. Today, there is yet another phenomenon: females selling cars. Vito had always dealt with male salesmen who were historically hustlers trying to make the maximum profit. During one of Vito’s car experiences, a salesman, during the sales pitch, was eating a greasy bowl of Kentucky Fried Chicken. Chicken fat dribbled down his chin. “Hey, in the business you gotta eat when you can. So what model ragtop are you lookin’ for?”. The experience was not finger-lickin’ good.

Just about anyone who leaves a dealership says, “ Somehow, I think I got hosed”. Alex Baldwin in the movie Glengary Glen Ross has a famous line, “Get them to sign on the line which is dotted, get mad you sons o’ bitches! Don’t forget it takes brass balls to be in sales.”.

Vito is a successful dentist who lived a financially comfortable life. He is also a sucker for convertibles. He became bald in his 40’s. His family teased him: “Oh Vito, driving with the top down is why you’ve lost all your hair!” or “You wear a baseball cap while driving because you don’t want people to blinded by the sun when it reflects off your chrome dome.” He took the ribbing good-naturedly. He possessed a strong ego.

He’d owned four convertibles and his current vehicle was a 2013 Chrysler. It was a beautiful car, perhaps the most stylish he’d ever owned. It had an unusual color, auburn metallic pearl coat, to which he added a distinguishing red pin stripe.

People were always complimenting him on this car. He had detailed and Simonized the car twice yearly. It was pristine for its eight years. There was nothing mechanically wrong with the car but this perhaps was the last year he could sell the car privately and command a decent profit.

He discovered a major issue was product availability. During the past decade, fewer car manufacturers were selling convertibles. Chrysler had discontinued rag tops. The only American convertibles were the muscle cars: the Chevrolet Corvette, Camaro and the Ford Mustang. I’m too old for those cars, he’d decided. Volkswagen has also discontinued the iconic Beetle convertible.

At his age, Vito decided he’d sell the Chrysler and lease his new wheels. He had researched the alternatives and had his eyes on an elegant Audi four-seater convertible. He wanted black with a tan interior and with all the bells and whistles. Expensive, yes, but he knew the pleasure was worth the cost. His income bracket could readily absorb the increased monthly payment. It was time to do his homework.

The internet has dramatically changed the dynamics of car sales. Shoppers can shop online and avoid the tension associated with unctuous salespersons. Such companies as Kelley Blue Book and Edmunds have websites that purportedly provide consumers with the best strategies to level the playing field. He also learned these companies play both sides of the game.

They supply data regarding MSRP( manufactuer’s suggested retail price) and compare it to something called invoice price and recommend what the consumer should demand as a fair and equitable price. But there are two sides to these companies. To obtain information, Vito had to supply his email address, telephone number and his car’s make and model.

Within hours, he was bombarded with emails and telephone calls from area car dealerships. They sent cheerful messages. “Hi Vito, this is Janice at the Audi dealership. Give me a call. I want to help you buy your new car!”. Or they would leave terse messages such as “Hey, this is Melissa. How’s the car shopping going?”. Let the online bartering begin.

Text exchange:

Vito: “I’ve researched your invoice price. It’s $3,000 less than the sticker price.  What’s the wiggle room here?”

Julie the saleswoman: “Well, yes, Vito there is indeed a difference in those two prices. What price are you thinking about?:)”.

Vito: “I want to lease the Audi for a price so I don’t pay more than $450 per month.  You crunch some numbers and then we can talk.”

Julie:  “Whoa, don’t think we can go that low. Well, you’ve probably heard this before but I’ll have to talk to my manager.”

          Everyone who’s bought a car has heard that line.  If she has to talk to the manager then why the hell is she working there, he mused.

Of course Vito couldn’t conduct all negotiations via the internet. It’s foolish for anyone to buy or lease an automobile without the “test drive”. Consumers want see the car, drive the care and smell the car – few aromas compare to the new car smell, which vanishes with three months of ownership. Test driving a car occurs at the dealership and that’s where the spider meets the fly.

His research online indicated there were few, if any, Audi convertibles in greater Boston. One saleslady, Melissa, contacted him and said, yes, we have one. Let’s make an appointment, she said.

He was free on Saturdays and drove 45 minutes to this chrome and glass dealership. An older man wearing a nylon windbreaker and a soiled necktie greeted him at the door. Vito presumed the man was a service employee. He was rumpled and the ubiquitous Covid mask covered his face but not his big, reddened nose. He was bulky and drug store reading glass perched on said proboscis. He never introduced himself.

“I’m here to see Melissa for a test drive,” Vito said.

“She’s upstairs,” the man brusquely replied. “Have a seat here.”

With a ham-fisted gesture, he pointed towards a nearby desk. His shoes were scuffed and he wore wrinkled trousers. Because of Covid 19, a clear plexiglass shield lay between customer and salespeople; this barrier was a true metaphor. A few moments later, Mr. Nose reappeared with a worksheet. He then informed me he was the salesman who’d be handling the negotiations. “You’re a salesman?” Vito thought.

“So you’re here to purchase an A5 Cabriolet,” he said in a gruff tone.

“No, I’m here to test drive a convertible per my conversation with the salesperson,” Vito testily replied.

“Well, we don’t have any convertibles on the lot,” he chided.

Vito was incredulous. There was an increasing tension between the two.

“Look, I drove down here because I was told a test drive would be available,” Vito said, as his Italian temper arose. “Now you’re saying that’s untrue. What kind of dealership are you running?

“Hey Vito,” the Nose said. “All I was told was you were ready to buy.

“Oh, that’s rich,” Vito replied, his voice rising. “You want me to purchase a $53,000 automobile sight unseen. I don’t think so.”

          The two men glared at each other.  Vito did not blink.  Then came the expected.

          “I’ll have to talk to my manager,” Nose said.

The manager, a hefty woman in her mid-30’s, arrived with the Nose in tow. She had dyed blonde hair, impressive false eyelashes, and exquisitely manicured, long French nails. The mask kept her expression a secret. Her name was Candace. In a cheerful, tone she apologized for the misunderstanding. Melissa had misinformed Vito, she admitted. She produced a sales worksheet that listed charges and total cost of the vehicle.

She told him there were no available convertibles in dealerships statewide. Meanwhile, the Nose stood silently behind the manager.

          “Well, I’m sorry, Candace, but I don’t think we’re a good fit,” Vito said without malice.  “I’ve driven here on a wild goose chase.  You’ve wasted my time.  I’ll think I’ll look elsewhere.”

          Vito abruptly stood and headed towards the exit.

          As he was leaving, Candace ran after him and said, “Dr. Di Stronzo, what can we do to make this right?  We’d like to get you into a new car.”

          “That ship has sailed, Candace,” Vito replied.  “Oh, and by the way, you should have your staff clean up their  appearance.  Your slovenly, large-nose “salesman” looks more like a Walmart greeter.” 

Vito was now a man on a mission. He returned home and resumed his search for an available 2021convertible. He called several dealerships to see if there were any available elsewhere in neighboring states. In pre-internet days, dealerships could scour inventories and often find an available make and model. He then recalled reading a recent online business magazine that stated the automobile industry, like so many businesses, had been adversely affected by Covid-19. Manufacturing and delivery underwent delays. He also remembered the article said computer chips, a vital component in modern cars, were back-ordered.

          It was 4 pm and Vito decided he’d call the last dealership on his list.  He was connected to Gloria, another female salesperson.  He expected the same rigamarole.

          “Actually, Doctor, we don’t have any 2021’s  available,” she said with a pleasant voice.  “They’re really scarce.  However, we do have a used 2019 Cabriolet in our inventory.  There’s not much difference.  You could at least test drive the car.  I think you’ll love it.”

Vito was impressed with Gloria’s delivery. She had a smooth, calming, voice, promising a soft sell. The good news was the dealership did have car, 2019, that was a reasonable facsimile.

          “I’ll drive down on Tuesday but please call me if you’ve sold the car,” he said.  “I don’t want to go on another fool’s errand.”

Tuesday arrived and Vito drove to the dealership. Gloria greeted him as he entered the agency. She was middle-aged somewhere in her mid-40s, early 50’s. She dressed professionally, was personable and created a hassle-free environment. He was required to produce his driver’s license and sign several documents.

          They walked outside and there it was.  A stunning cobalt gray Audi convertible.  It was a used lease car that was available for sale.  Gloria gave him the keys and he slid into the luxurious leather driver’s seat.  He started the car.  Gloria stood by the passenger’s door.  Vito lowered the window and said, “Aren’t you coming along for the ride?”.

          “No”, she replied.  Because of Covid  we don’t accompany customers.”

Just as well, Vito thought. He eased out of the parking lot and drove along the highway. The car was comfortable and silent except for the high-end sound system. The dashboard was an overwhelming array of lights, buttons and controls. After about 15 minutes he was sold. Yes, this was the car. He quickly returned to the dealership.

Gloria couldn’t see it but Vito was smiling beneath the mask. Next came the “discussion”. Without naming names, he told her about the unpleasant Mr. Nose experience. They discussed the scarcity of convertibles. Next came a rarity in car sales: Gloria revealed the truth.

“Well, Dr. Di Stronzo, the reason you couldn’t find a car is because they’ve stopped manufacturing 2021 models,” she said.  “If we sit here today and you want to complete the sale, it’ll be for a  2022 model.”

Mr. Nose and the other online/telephone marketers hadn’t revealed the truth. They perpetuated the longstanding reputation. Car people talked jive but Gloria possessed unusual candor.

“Actually, Dr. Di Stronzo, I couldn’t sell you a 2022 today,” she said. “Audi hasn’t released the pricing schedules.  They’ll be announced in mid-to late May.  I can contact when when I have the numbers.”

Vito had become Diogenes; he’d searched and found an honest car salesperson.

“Well, I’ll tell you, Gloria,” he said. “I appreciate your honesty. I’m impressed. It’s refreshing to meet someone like you at a car dealership. Call me when you’re ready. Never thought I’d hear myself saying it, but it’s been a pleasure.”

And with that, Vito left the dealership and drove off in his shiny auburn-colored 2013 ragtop. I’m going to miss you, he thought. It’s been a good eight year run.

Adieu Chrysler, hello Audi!