Swimming with Sharks

There are certain things in life that very few people, if any, ever seem to enjoy. Visiting the dentist. Receiving mail from the IRS. Seeing the doctor reach for a latex glove.These experiences are so universally terrible that they often become the subject of sarcastic statements such as: "Oh I'd love to spend our final week of vacation this year visiting your Aunt Edna May. I imagine it'll be about as much fun as a root canal!"

However, there's a certain camaraderie that comes from shared misery. Who doesn't like to playfully gripe with friends, or even strangers, about lengthy traffic jams or aggravating phone solicitations? If nothing else, these experiences pull us together as they provide a common foe.

I had the opportunity last night to enjoy one such experience. A visit to the car dealership. The lease on our van will soon expire and we were contacted by Dodgeland of Columbia to bring it in so that they could inspect it. I suspected they would want to check the mileage, look for excessive scratches or dents, and check to make certain the engine was running smoothly. While I can't say that this was necessarily how I wanted to spend the Friday night of what had been a long and exhausting week, the dealership didn't offer weekend appointments so I had little choice.

I can't say that it was the visit to the dealership, though, that had me bummed out. While I would have loved to have a relaxing night at home, I kind of enjoyed the prospect of meeting with the salesman to figure out whether we should purchase our leased van outright or look into buying a new one. Ugh, what kind of person enjoys doing business with a car salesman? Me, evidently.

It wasn't always this way. Our first few car purchases were from a Saturn dealership in St. Louis. Saturn offered a "no haggle" policy and had some of the friendliest salesmen you could ever imagine - each costumed in matching pairs of casual khakis and a polo shirt. When each of our "college" cars gave out (mine an old sputtering Pontiac hatchback and Tricia's a Ford Escort) we made an appointment with the very same salesman - Gary Tamme. We appreciated the opportunity to find a car without having to worry about being taken advantage of - or at least being taken any more advantage of than every other customer.

A few years passed and Harper was born. Not long afterward I quit my teaching gig to stay home and play Mr. Mom, also babysitting a friend's baby to help make ends meet. Then came Ainsley. Just a few months later we started the process of bringing Ty home and it quickly became obvious that our two little Saturns were no longer going to get it done. There were kids everywhere! Although the thought of driving a minivan was less than enticing it was, none-the-less, a necessity.

Since we didn't really have the money for a new van we searched the internet for a used one. After a few weeks of searching we found a couple we liked on Car Soup and drove out to see them. We opted for the Caravan and pretty much paid full asking price from the guy who was selling it. His asking price was pretty consistent with what the Kelly Blue Book said it was worth and we weren't much in the practice of negotiating deals anyway. It was probably a good thing we didn't have the money for a new van because a real salesman would have taken us for all we're worth.

A  few years later we moved to Columbia and found ourselves in need of a car -again. I researched and researched and found out that buying a car at a dealership didn't actually have to be all that bad of an experience. In fact, it could be fun. And fair.

I found out how much the dealerships pay for the cars. I learned how much other car buyers here in South Carolina were paying on average for the same cars we were looking at. I read about the subtle scams that dealerships sometimes try to pull to get anywhere from a few extra hundred to a few extra thousand dollars. I printed all this out, slipped it into a folder, and visited the Honda dealership knowing, already, exactly which car I wanted and how much I would pay for it. Amazingly, it worked!

So heading over to Greystone Boulevard this past Friday I didn't feel too bad. I knew we had leverage (we could buy the leased van, look at a new Dodge, or completely walk away and look at other dealerships). I also knew that times are really bad for car sales and that the dealership would (I hope) be much more focused on pleasing the customer and moving cars than turning people away with underhanded practices.

The first thing I expected as I pulled in to the lot and stepped out of the van was to be smothered by a salesman before I even hit the sidewalk. However, after tidying up the van (stashing a slew of broken crayons, pencils, and toys under the seats) I hopped out of the van and noone was there to hassle me. I was shocked.

I made it inside the doors until finally someone came over and asked if I needed any help. It turned out to be the salesman, Eric, that I had an appointment with. Eric was an older African American guy who insisted on calling me "Mr. Chris" - think Morgan Freeman saying  "Come on now Ms. Daisy. Let me drive you down to the Piggly Wiggly!" I wasn't real comfortable with the whole Mr. Chris thing but let it go on too long to comfortably protest.

Eric sat down with me and laid out all the financials of my options. He explained the fees associated with turning the van back in (a $500 fee for having replaced two tires and a $450 fee for giving it back), gave me the price for buying the van outright ($12,500), and offered to show me a new model that closely matched our current van. He spent about two minutes asking if I'd like to upgrade to video monitors or automatic sliding doors but quit rather quickly after I provided him my "I don't like cell phones, video games, or devices designed for lazy people" speech.

He showed me a new van that was exactly like ours except that it had a roof rack and Satellite radio. I saw on the sticker that it was $25, 540. However, there was also a side sticker with other charges that brought the price up to around $29,000. When we came back in to his office, which was no more of a barren cubicle with his nameplate sitting on a non-descript file cabinet, he went off to speak with his manager. I sat and wrote down everything he had said to me up to this point and recorded all the important figures. A little later he came back and explained that they were offering a $1500 rebate for returning customers as well as 0% financing on five year loans or 1.9% for six year loans. Careful never to share an actual sales price, he explained that our monthly payment would be very similar to our current lease payment.

I sat and thought about that. I had read that this was a common trick. Salesmen share monthly payments which allow them to add costs in by stretching out the term of your loan, thus keeping your payment low.

"Okay," I said. "I have a question."

"Shoot," he said.

"Is this monthly payment calculated on the $25,540 I saw on the sticker or the $29,000 based on the other costs on that side sticker? Because I've never had to pay the price on that side sticker before."

He paused and then started laughing really hard. It kind of took me by surprise because I wasn't sure if he was attempting to laugh with me or at me.

"That's a good question Mr. Chris," he bellowed. "A very good question! I'll be right back."

He went to the cubicle next door and I could overhear him recounting the conversation with his boss. Soon he came back and showed me that these monthly payments had been calculated based on a selling price of $24,040. This was the $25,540 on the original sticker minus the promised rebate. I couldn't believe it. He didn't even try to get me to purchase it for the higher listed price.

"You go on home and talk about it with your wife and call me in the morning to let me know what you want to do, either way," he said. "But the 0% financing ends on the 30th which is next Thursday so you probably want to make a decision soon."

I thanked him and drove back home. At first I felt as though I had really accomplished something. I knew we could buy the lease van and have it paid off in just a few years or get the new van, pay a very fair price, and feel comfortable that it would last us the next ten years - at which time we'd no longer need a van.

But then reality hit me. Wait a minute, I thought. I didn't negotiate anything. I was so surprised that he was offering a price lower than what I had anticipated that I gladly accepted his offer as fair. I was pretty sure I'd been fooled.

I came home and Tricia and I discussed it. We thought a new van made a lot of sense because we would save about $3000 in financing costs and purchase the "last minivan of our lives." I went back to the computer and researched some more. I found out that Dodge was the only dealership offering a financing incentive (worth thousands of dollars over five or six years) and that other dealerships didn't allow customers to use both a rebate AND financing incentive in combination. It was usually an either/or.

I searched to see how much people in our area pay for the minivan he showed me and it was $23, 522. This was about $500 less than what the deal I thought I was getting. My heart dropped a bit. I thought this was all going to be so easy.

The next morning he called as soon as he got into the office and I told him about the price difference. He told me he'd talk with his manager and after about two or three more calls he agreed to the lower price, the rebate, and the 0% financing. It all worked out.

Tricia and I went in on Saturday and left a little over an hour later with our new van. There was no last minute sales pitch for an extended warranty or undercoating or any of those other add ons. They just had us test drive the van, sign the papers, and walk out.

So perhaps there's hope. If buying a new car can be so pain free maybe we can begin to expect more from our universal adversaries. Maybe we can even expect a Christmas card this year from the IRS. With a fat check inside.