Firsts and Faking it
I bought a car this weekend.
Or, at least I ordered a car. One that should arrive in time for my 29th birthday. My sales guy was young, and totally faking it--that he knew how to sell, I mean. Because he was sincere, and listened to me, and didn't try to talk me into packages that I didn't want--he just apologized for having to go through them all with me. But he was doing okay.
And then his boss came over, and he was slick and experienced and knew how to talk about all the packages and options and give me brochures to go home with. He sat with my sales guy while they closed the sale together, and suddenly my sales guy was all fumbling and uncertain and deferent. Which is something I recognize in myself . . . faking it (and mostly making it) until someone who knows what they're doing comes along, someone in authority, and suddenly I'm a mess.
"You're his first sale," the boss said to me. My sales guy hadn't admitted that, of course, and I don't know how he felt about his boss disclosing his lack of experience. I was a super-easy sale, though. As long as he didn't piss me off completely, I was there to buy something. Still, I was happy to make his Saturday--and my ego likes to think that maybe this is the start of a long and prosperous sales career and he'll always remember me as his first. Because I'm narcissistic like that. Of course, this is the first car I've ever purchased on my own, so he's my first car salesman, too.
Anyway, if you ever heard me talk about cars, or if you go back and read last July's posts, you'll know exactly what kind of car I purchased--or pre-ordered to purchase when it arrives. And yes, it's red.
Or, at least I ordered a car. One that should arrive in time for my 29th birthday. My sales guy was young, and totally faking it--that he knew how to sell, I mean. Because he was sincere, and listened to me, and didn't try to talk me into packages that I didn't want--he just apologized for having to go through them all with me. But he was doing okay.
And then his boss came over, and he was slick and experienced and knew how to talk about all the packages and options and give me brochures to go home with. He sat with my sales guy while they closed the sale together, and suddenly my sales guy was all fumbling and uncertain and deferent. Which is something I recognize in myself . . . faking it (and mostly making it) until someone who knows what they're doing comes along, someone in authority, and suddenly I'm a mess.
"You're his first sale," the boss said to me. My sales guy hadn't admitted that, of course, and I don't know how he felt about his boss disclosing his lack of experience. I was a super-easy sale, though. As long as he didn't piss me off completely, I was there to buy something. Still, I was happy to make his Saturday--and my ego likes to think that maybe this is the start of a long and prosperous sales career and he'll always remember me as his first. Because I'm narcissistic like that. Of course, this is the first car I've ever purchased on my own, so he's my first car salesman, too.
Anyway, if you ever heard me talk about cars, or if you go back and read last July's posts, you'll know exactly what kind of car I purchased--or pre-ordered to purchase when it arrives. And yes, it's red.
Labels: Random Ramble
posted by Melanie at 10:04 PM
