We bought a car last weekend. And by "we" I mean me. Mike doesn't have a car right now. He's being punished for changing cars 47 times in the 13 years I had my '99 Accord. (Or we are saving money because we both work at home and don't really need two cars very often and my dad's car lives at our house anyway. But the former makes for a better story.)
The sales guys were great. I knew I wanted the same van, newer version. We figured out pricing over the email. I told them I didn't want to spend all day at the dealership because we'd have two 4-year-olds with us, and two bored 4-year-olds are the WORST. Nobody wants that. (Side note, there was only one minor injury to a boy while we were there. Turns out it's not a great idea to race your brother toward a concrete block wall.) So when we arrived, they had the van that I wanted washed and ready for us to test drive before I signed on the dotted line.
Then came time for me to sign on the dotted line with the dreaded "Business Manager". He, of course, took forever, even though I made my credit application online two days earlier. Finally, I get to go in and sign things. By the time I left his office, I was glad I hadn't yelled (or, honestly, cried, because that's what I do when people are jerks to me; but you can ignore that because it ruins my story).
I've been waiting for the survey to fully articulate my displeasure at this dude. And it finally came today! Here's how it went down:
Survey "question": The Business Manager completed all the necessary documents in a thorough and efficient manner.
My written response: The documents were done thoroughly and efficiently, but the person I worked with made several misogynistic comments. First he mentioned how he was surprised that I was there by myself. I told him that my husband was there with the kids in the play area, and that he was there mostly because I needed a ride to the dealership. I didn't think any more about it until he called me sweetie several times in a patronizing way while trying to scare me into buying gap insurance from him. He also continued by telling me that I didn't understand my personal insurance policy that includes gap coverage. I've been an insurance professional for nearly 20 years. I actually read my policies. I'm licensed to advise other people about them. I understand perfectly well what coverage I have. And I told him so. I was happy to leave his office.
Please. Don't try to school me about insurance. I am not your sweetie. And I don't require a man to be sitting next to me while I buy something.
2 comments:
Julie, First of all, I didn't know you had a blog. I'm going to have to read your other posts. I loved this one and sometime we will have to share a drink and share car buying stories. Congratulations on playing your woman card.
Sounds like a plan, Kathy!
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