Sandy
04-23-06, 05:36 PM
After 27 years at it, at like ~ oh, maybe 5 different dealerships, and dealing with whatever blows thru the door, one is bound to have several "You ain't never gonna believe this......#&**# kinda story" ~ So, here goes one of my 4 best. Hope ya all enjoy.....
__________________________
I am a greenhorn. It's 1968, my very first job. I am with an ICP dealership (Imperial/Chrysler/Plymouth). The General Manager makes all of the sales force (8 of us) go to a local MALL every Saturday morning, like around 11:00 AM and go "tagging" {Tagging SUCKS major} Tagging BTW, was outlawed many many years ago, now. Tagging is when you have a bunch or pre-printed advertisments, with your name on them. Each salesman takes two rows of cars and runs up & down the two rows sticking these things under people's windshield wipers. That's Tagging. Imagine it on a hot summer day in July humid and all & there ya are in a suit 'n tie runiing up & down lanes, holding onto 100 of these things & puttin' 'em under wipers :tisk:
So,
the General Manager one day fires our SalesManager, and hires a new guy who sold him a bill of goods.... yada yada yada.... So, once agin (1968) and out we go tagging. So, the new Sales Manager seem to like me! :bouncy: and he confides in me that this tagging sucks major and that HE used to work for Monster Mega Wowser Motors in Long Island (N.Y.) and tagging is a waste of time, unless you cross the line. He tells me that if I keep his confidence, in what he's gonna do, I will "win the prize" ~ Now, I'm 23 and like from a foreign country in this business, so not knowing how shrewed this shady character is, I'm all kinda "Ya, Okay, what we gonna do" mentality.
So...
The others are all running 'round tagging, and Sandy & Mr. POWERHOUSE are together. Mr. Powerhouse calls me over and says, "We are looking for a 5 year old Chrysler or Plymouth in so-so shape. "Find Me One" ~ Sandy produces what will be (unknown to Sandy) THE VICTIM ! It's a 1964 Plymouth Fury II Sedan (middle model) Akin to a Bel Air not Impala....
My boss goes over & places the advertisment under the wiper arm , and then bends the SOB arm like a pretzel nearly breaking it off the car.
Immediately he blows the whistle,calling everyone back to the 9-passenger Town & Country Wagon we arrived in. Homeward Ho we go. When we get back, Mr. Powerhouse signals me to his office. He tells me - "Mr. Broken wiper will know exactly WHO broke his wiper. It's on the flyer. He'll be crusin' in here at some point today, ready to kill. Stay out of it. Keep your trap shut. All day everyone is calm and happy, Sandy is scared to death. At 3:03 PM (somthings ya never forget) into the driveway comes flying THE offended Plymouth. My boss sees and comes over to me & says WATCH! We are now gonna sell him a new car.
(Sandy thinks, if he don't shoot us up, first, ya, right). So, the beet red 50-ish Polish American guy bounces into the showroom, and is cursing & arms all over asking for my boss. Boss man appears. Wild broken wiper man is screaming & yelling at what happened to his wiper and and and and we had no right and and blah blah this & that and the old standard song called "Sue You". After he has spend his wind, my boss fesses up the truth. He apoligizes profusely and explains that when he placed the advertisment there, his suit jacket sleeve got caught on the wiper blade and he didn't know and in fast removing his arm that happened and he actually got his arm caught on it and that he got bady CUT ! ;) he then produces his right arm which is now adorned with band-aids (like 5 or 6 or them). :rolleyes: Mr. Bent Wiper is fast calming down and my boss tells him how deeply sorry he is and calls in the Service Manger who is clueless to all of this. He tells the Service Manager that this man's car is outside and the dealership is treating him (My Boss is actuallly paying) to a new wiper arm, a set of new wiper blades, an oil change, a lube, an oil filter, and air filter & a fuel filter - in other words, a full service ! Reason? it takes a long time. Now that Mr. Bent Wiper has totally calmed down and is getting a whole lot of freee service for just a bent wiper,
he's in a pretty friendly mood. My Boss (with bandages) appears and strikes up a friendly conversation with him about sports and "where are ya from" kinda talk and family-talk and and and bowling I recall, and they both turned out to have Polish backgrounds and and and. By now Mr. Bent Wiper is a kittycat. My boss winks at me to come over & "joint the party" & he introduces me and tells Mr. Bent Wiper that I am new & a rookie and to allow me to show him some new cars, so that I can practice..... Mr Bent Wiper doesn't wanna say no, after getting all that free service that's going on in the back, so he agrees. Sandy shows him the new 1968 Fury line and the Belvideres (mid size) and whatever else. Little by little Mr. Bent Wiper is geting interested. 45 minutes later he & I are out on a demo ride in a Belvidere 4-Dr Sedan. When we return Mr Powerhouse takes over. More B.S. and frolcking around and we're quoting prices with his car in trade. Exactly 30 minutes later, We have a DEAL, & Mr Bent Wiper is signing the sales contract. The following Monday AM we delivered him his new car, and he was happy as a pig in mud. We took a picture of him in his new car and posted it on our "Happy Owners" board, sent him a dozen bakery cupcakes as a Thank You, too.
We put the trade in on the used car lot and added the interrnal expense of the shop work to our cost involvement on the car, and sold it 4 days later for a large profit !
Mr. Powerhouse says to me, "I am giving you that deal - Sandy" ~ The commission is $107.00, and THAT'S HOW ya sell cars !
(He was the ONLY person to come in of the 200 flyers we stuck under wipers, BTW.)
__________________________
I am a greenhorn. It's 1968, my very first job. I am with an ICP dealership (Imperial/Chrysler/Plymouth). The General Manager makes all of the sales force (8 of us) go to a local MALL every Saturday morning, like around 11:00 AM and go "tagging" {Tagging SUCKS major} Tagging BTW, was outlawed many many years ago, now. Tagging is when you have a bunch or pre-printed advertisments, with your name on them. Each salesman takes two rows of cars and runs up & down the two rows sticking these things under people's windshield wipers. That's Tagging. Imagine it on a hot summer day in July humid and all & there ya are in a suit 'n tie runiing up & down lanes, holding onto 100 of these things & puttin' 'em under wipers :tisk:
So,
the General Manager one day fires our SalesManager, and hires a new guy who sold him a bill of goods.... yada yada yada.... So, once agin (1968) and out we go tagging. So, the new Sales Manager seem to like me! :bouncy: and he confides in me that this tagging sucks major and that HE used to work for Monster Mega Wowser Motors in Long Island (N.Y.) and tagging is a waste of time, unless you cross the line. He tells me that if I keep his confidence, in what he's gonna do, I will "win the prize" ~ Now, I'm 23 and like from a foreign country in this business, so not knowing how shrewed this shady character is, I'm all kinda "Ya, Okay, what we gonna do" mentality.
So...
The others are all running 'round tagging, and Sandy & Mr. POWERHOUSE are together. Mr. Powerhouse calls me over and says, "We are looking for a 5 year old Chrysler or Plymouth in so-so shape. "Find Me One" ~ Sandy produces what will be (unknown to Sandy) THE VICTIM ! It's a 1964 Plymouth Fury II Sedan (middle model) Akin to a Bel Air not Impala....
My boss goes over & places the advertisment under the wiper arm , and then bends the SOB arm like a pretzel nearly breaking it off the car.
Immediately he blows the whistle,calling everyone back to the 9-passenger Town & Country Wagon we arrived in. Homeward Ho we go. When we get back, Mr. Powerhouse signals me to his office. He tells me - "Mr. Broken wiper will know exactly WHO broke his wiper. It's on the flyer. He'll be crusin' in here at some point today, ready to kill. Stay out of it. Keep your trap shut. All day everyone is calm and happy, Sandy is scared to death. At 3:03 PM (somthings ya never forget) into the driveway comes flying THE offended Plymouth. My boss sees and comes over to me & says WATCH! We are now gonna sell him a new car.
(Sandy thinks, if he don't shoot us up, first, ya, right). So, the beet red 50-ish Polish American guy bounces into the showroom, and is cursing & arms all over asking for my boss. Boss man appears. Wild broken wiper man is screaming & yelling at what happened to his wiper and and and and we had no right and and blah blah this & that and the old standard song called "Sue You". After he has spend his wind, my boss fesses up the truth. He apoligizes profusely and explains that when he placed the advertisment there, his suit jacket sleeve got caught on the wiper blade and he didn't know and in fast removing his arm that happened and he actually got his arm caught on it and that he got bady CUT ! ;) he then produces his right arm which is now adorned with band-aids (like 5 or 6 or them). :rolleyes: Mr. Bent Wiper is fast calming down and my boss tells him how deeply sorry he is and calls in the Service Manger who is clueless to all of this. He tells the Service Manager that this man's car is outside and the dealership is treating him (My Boss is actuallly paying) to a new wiper arm, a set of new wiper blades, an oil change, a lube, an oil filter, and air filter & a fuel filter - in other words, a full service ! Reason? it takes a long time. Now that Mr. Bent Wiper has totally calmed down and is getting a whole lot of freee service for just a bent wiper,
he's in a pretty friendly mood. My Boss (with bandages) appears and strikes up a friendly conversation with him about sports and "where are ya from" kinda talk and family-talk and and and bowling I recall, and they both turned out to have Polish backgrounds and and and. By now Mr. Bent Wiper is a kittycat. My boss winks at me to come over & "joint the party" & he introduces me and tells Mr. Bent Wiper that I am new & a rookie and to allow me to show him some new cars, so that I can practice..... Mr Bent Wiper doesn't wanna say no, after getting all that free service that's going on in the back, so he agrees. Sandy shows him the new 1968 Fury line and the Belvideres (mid size) and whatever else. Little by little Mr. Bent Wiper is geting interested. 45 minutes later he & I are out on a demo ride in a Belvidere 4-Dr Sedan. When we return Mr Powerhouse takes over. More B.S. and frolcking around and we're quoting prices with his car in trade. Exactly 30 minutes later, We have a DEAL, & Mr Bent Wiper is signing the sales contract. The following Monday AM we delivered him his new car, and he was happy as a pig in mud. We took a picture of him in his new car and posted it on our "Happy Owners" board, sent him a dozen bakery cupcakes as a Thank You, too.
We put the trade in on the used car lot and added the interrnal expense of the shop work to our cost involvement on the car, and sold it 4 days later for a large profit !
Mr. Powerhouse says to me, "I am giving you that deal - Sandy" ~ The commission is $107.00, and THAT'S HOW ya sell cars !
(He was the ONLY person to come in of the 200 flyers we stuck under wipers, BTW.)