I walked into the nearest Honda dealership one cool, drizzly, weekday evening, with no appointment. I had some spare time and I wanted to look at a new Civic Si.
When I walked in a woman at a desk near the door asked me if I had an appointment with a salesperson. I asked her if I could use the bathroom before I talked to anybody. She gave me directions to the bathroom, which was down the back hallway behind the showroom.
Now car dealerships, like other sales organizations, generally have a sales chart outside the sales manager's door showing how each salesperson is doing that month. I happened to pass that sales chart on my way to and from the bathroom.
Although it was almost the end of the month, one salesperson had only sold two cars, while all of the others had sold at least 10. I looked at the name of the laggard, and had an idea.
I walked back to the front desk, and told the woman I had an appointment with ... I had to guess at the gender, since the sales chart had only listed last names — Mr. Jackson. Luck was with me, because he was a Mr. and he was working that night. "Hi, Mr. Jackson," I said. I introduced myself. "I called you earlier about the Civic Si." I stuck out my hand and he shook it. "Oh, yes," he said, remembering the call I, of course, had never made. After being unable to find the information he was sure he'd taken down during our phone call, he apologetically asked for my personal information again and off we went for a test drive.
I really liked the car and wanted it, so we went back to his desk to negotiate. Although this was pre-Internet I had a pretty good idea of what the invoice amount was on that car. His first offer was $200 under sticker. My first offer was what I thought was invoice, a good $1,000+ less than his offer. He grimaced slightly, and trotted off to the sales manager, no doubt hoping for his third sale of the month.
"Good news!" he exulted when he returned, showing me the number his sales manager had authorized: another $200 off sticker. "I'm very sorry," I said, rising and shaking his hand. "I think I need to look somewhere else." I turned and starting walking towards the door.
I made it six steps. "Wait," he pleaded. "Let me talk to the sales manager again. I think I can get you your price if I tell him you're a serious buyer. You are a serious buyer, aren't you?" I assured him I was, and he disappeared.
I sat in his cubicle for a long time, imaging the conversation. "Please, Mike, I've only sold two cars this month. This guy is serious." "I can't go this low." "Come on, it's only three days 'til the end of the month, and I'm hurting." "I don't know."
Finally he came back, with my offer approved. Because it was late, we agreed that he'd prep the car the next morning, and I told him I'd be in after work to pick it up, which I was.
When I came back and sat with him and the finance guy to complete the paperwork that next morning, I overheard a couple in the next cubicle agreeing to pay $400 more for a Civic that was one model down from mine. I felt pretty good.
I notice that in the dealership where I bought my most recent car (a Subaru) the sales chart is nowhere near the bathrooms. Maybe they're getting smarter at the dealerships.
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