Have spent most of the morning on the phone dealing with the dealers and dealing with the people who are dealing with the dealers.
Car dealers that is. I think you must have to commit some pretty heinous crimes in your past life to end up being a car salesmen. Who on earth grows up saying they want to be a car salesman? a real estate agent? It’s like prostitution, no little girl grows up wanting to be a prostitute (or if there was we’d be seriously looking at her home environment!) So I can’t imagine anyone who would willingly go into a career that makes them even more universally despised and distrusted than ATO (IRS) agents.
Actually come to think of it car salesmen and real estate agents do have one thing in common – they have a unique knack of totally sucking every last iota of fun out of buying a new car or a new house. I don’t think it’s unrealistic to hope for some moderate portion of enjoyment from acquiring a new home or a new car. One should be excited about these things – you work/save hard for it so it should be enjoyable. But having to deal with the agents? Trying to make sure you don’t get totally reamed up the arse without the small consideration of lube or at the very least, make sure they don’t have the sandy lube handy… well, that just ain’t my idea of fun.
So I did the only thing a sensible girl could do under the circumstances…. pointed at the vehicle of choice and said ‘Mr K, I want that one. I know it’s an enormous imposition, but if you could bring yourself to be sullied and possibly anally raped by said car salespeople in my stead… then I’d be forever in your debt’.
Et voila! Thanks to Mr K the dishes were done dude! And I didn’t even have to put on my Betty White face 🙂
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