| Garf, I am sorry, I have no sympathy. I have endured over two weeks of randomly wandering around car dealerships, looking at used cars. Often the same car time and time again.
I have had to spend hours getting the car we have valued umpteen times for part exchange.
I have had to read multiple reviews on multiple websites of multiple cars.
I have then had to return to look at the same cars once more, in case they have miraculously metamorphised overnight into something slightly different but more suitable.
Let me tell you about suitable. Suitable is the type of car we decided on - a diesel hatchback with good fuel economy. So why is every car that catches Caroline's eye a massive 4x4 that would consume the oil budget of Romania on my daily commute??
Yesterday was the climax of this torture. yesterday i decreed that it had to come to an end and we weren't going to wait another two weeks to see a car that might come in to the local Ford dealership on part exchange for a car they had almost sold. Nor was I going to spend half my working day fending off phone calls from the 12 year old who works at the not-so-local Ford dealership offering me every car under the sun except for the one i wanted, in the price bracket I had asked for.
So, we went tot he "motor park". I showed her the car I had found the day before. we test drove it. We liked it. We got a good px offer on our car.....and then we spent 4 hours -yes FOUR bloody hours - walking around looking at other cars and debating over the first, perfectly suitable, car. The reason? It didn't have a centre console - you know, that plastic bit that you can hold cups in and old, furry sweets. that was it. That was the sticking point.
The salesman found us sat ont he kerb at the end of his carpark. Caroline was debating this point out loud and i was trying to cut my wrists with a plastic teaspoon I had found in my handbag. If that didn't work I was going to take my eyeballs out instead.
Having sold two cars in the chasm of hours since we had last met the salesman was in a good mood and when our dilemma was put to him, along with the point that the new, face-lifted version of this perfectly suitable car had a plastickly bit he kindly went away and agreed with his manager that they would fit one for us, FOC.
I owe my life to this salesman. He deserves a medal for the humanity shown in ending my ordeal. I thank him.
Lou |