I Get Lonely Sometimes

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I get lonely sometimes.

Recently, I got so lonely that I was literally going to buy somebody a car so they could visit me. Luckily, the guy selling the car saved me from myself. You see, he was a chicken-shit.

I saw a good used car on Facebook Marketplace and inquired about it. The seller turned out to be a used car salesman at a dealership, though he didn’t say so in the ad. Mistake one.

When I realized he was a dealer, he said, “So I guess that means you’re not interested.” Mistake two. Why would I contact him if not interested? A salesman should never assume “NO” unless the customer says NO.

To his credit, he did close me for an appointment. 9am the next morning. Then 1800-GotJunk bumped up their appointment at my place to 7am. So I’d probably not be free to make the 9am.

I didn’t want to just not show- I’ve been in sales, and I hate no-shows- so I asked the salesman to bring the car to me. Here’s my address, I can’t get away for too long, but I want to see the car. What better way to prove its road-worthiness than to drive it 10 miles for a possible sale?

He refused. Out of the question. Some nonsense about having to be at the dealership. For what? In case the plants die without a witness I guess. How busy is the place at 9am? Truth is he was afraid. Afraid he’d spend half an hour visiting me and not make a sale. News flash. Every activity may result in no sale. It will go one way or the other, but not getting face to face with the customer is a guaranteed no sale.

That’s cool. I was being impulsive anyway. Who do I think I am bribing people with Toyotas to be in my life? But all day the salesman kept messaging me, saying that he had someone else interested in the car. That old routine. And how he couldn’t hold the car for me if this other party wanted it.

Truth is he’d already blown it. He probably didn’t have a second buyer. He didn’t even have the first buyer- me. I know that I asked him to work outside the box. He had no reason to believe I was credible. He didn’t know me. Worse yet, he didn’t know that as I left the house that morning, I slipped $5000 cash into my pocket in anticipation of our meeting.

Thanks for being a chicken-shit and saving me five grand.


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