How to get suckered into a car dealership

[Raz Tech]

Let me preface this by saying that I am unsure of which board to put this in, so if I threw it in the wrong place, could you be so kind as to move it for me?

I returned from a used car dealership a few days ago, where I had a rip-roaring good time and felt inclined to share it with anybody who's willing to read something this lengthy.
It all started a couple of weeks ago.  I received a voucher in the mail, from a local used Hyundai dealership.  It would seem that they were having a sale in the near future, and I had received a cordial invitation to attend their "inventory surplus clear-out", which indicated that I could get any kind of used piece of shit Hyundai for prices so good that it was making "National Headlines" (source missing).  Normally I would simply crumple such a thing into a ball and use it to play fetch with my cat, however, before I could, I had already flipped the invitation over.  YOU MAY HAVE WON 30,000 DOLLARS CASH! Was printed on the back, next to a picture of a pile of hundred dollar bills, as well as some inexplicable five dollar bills.  All I had to do was scratch off some crap and see if I had won the grand prize or another denomination of cash.  I didn't win 30 grand.  I didn't win 10 grand.  But I did "win" 5 grand.  Interesting, I thought to myself, choosing to ere on the side of cautious optimism.  Used auto salesmen are a shady bunch after all, and if this was the dealer I was thinking of, it was a shady place itself.
The next step, as per the voucher, was to phone in and inform them that I had won their prize.  The lady who answered the phone spoke very slowly, and it was immediately apparent that she was reading from some sort of cue-card set up for this very purpose.  The next thing that was apparent was that she had, at best, a very questionable level of reading comprehension.  After she stumbled through the verification process, followed by an awkward congratulatory statement that sounded as though it was uttered by a very sad dyslexic robot, she informed me that I needed to pick a date and time in which to come in to claim my prize.  I didn't realize that this would be necessary.  I had wrongly assumed that I would simply bring in my proof of winning, and they would hand me cash.  Now they had me at a disadvantage, where I would have to make a snap decision based on my current projected schedule.  "Wednesday at 5 p.m. I guess" I uttered, immediately regretting my decision.  "Great see you then", she said and hung up the phone.
I should have gone for the weekend.  That was my first mistake.  There would be more people there on the weekend, which means that I might have been able to skirt around more of the evil used car salesmen, while they were busy attending to other customers, enabling me to sneak in and sneak out with the cash that may or may not exist in hand, unscathed.  Mistake two; I should have waited until after dinner.  The time I had picked would be right when I would start to get hungry, but too early to pick something up before changing from work clothes to normal attire.  This would make me more irritable than normal, and I'm already not a pleasant person to be around if I don't know or like you already.  Problem 3; I was going to be alone the whole week leading up to this.  My wife and kids were gone on vacation, and I was guarding the homestead, on my own, the entire time they were gone.  This left me entirely too much time to think, to dwell on all the innocents that the evil used car salesmen had sucked dry of their precious money, of all the people I knew who weren't good enough under pressure to avoid paying near sticker-price for their vehicles.  Oh yes, these bastards were going to pay.  They were going to pay dearly.  If they wouldn't give me the money straight away, I planned on making them wish that they had.

[Raz Tech]

I had a week to prepare for this event.  I didn't know what to do.  My brain ran through as many scenarios as it could dream up while I went about my busy work.  My mind rocked and reeled with possibilities as I went about feeding the chickens and watering the vegetables and changing my oil and working on the pantry I had told my wife I might be able to finish building soon.  It was a productive weekend.  I do menial tasks real well when I'm distracted.  I finally ran into my neighbor outside, and asked him whether or not he had received the invitation.  He had, however he hadn't won anything.  Interesting, I thought.  This was sounding more like an actual sweepstakes, but I still didn't want to get too attached to the idea of having won.
"Be careful, they aren't just gonna give you cash unless they think you'll give it right back to them" he said, echoing what I already knew in my head.

The day finally came.  I worked listlessly all that day, my mind still racing with all of the possibilities that may come that evening.  I finally punched out and got home as fast as I could, threw on some fresh clothes and raced back out towards the dealership.  It was nearly an hour trip to get there, and the roads were backed up to all hell.  When I finally arrived I approached the "winners counter", somehow managing to make it all the way from the parking lot through the doors and the lobby without being accosted by a single evil car salesman.  I handed my voucher over to the lady, who took it slowly, and with a glazed over expression in her eyes scanned it to verify my winnings.  "Congratulations" she said, and I immediately recognized her as the dyslexic robot I had spoken to on the phone a week ago.  Unfortunately, she seemed to have more cue cards to read off now.  I could literally see her eyes move back and forth as she read slowly off the screen. "I regret to inform...you that...we are unable...to give you your...prize...until later tonight, however we invite yo..........you to stay and wait here.  There are ....refre....refre...snacks on the table in the lobby, and a coffee machine on the back wall."
"Wonderful," I uttered.  So this is how it would turn out.  They wanted to keep me here, in the den of the evil car salesmen, until they could either break me into buying one of their cars with my prize money, or bore me out of the building.  Unfortunately for them, they have no idea the lengths I'm willing to go for a couple hundred bucks (donkey show), let alone five thousand dollars (whatever your heart desires).  So I made my way across the lobby towards the chairs, and that is when my luck finally ran out.

[Raz Tech]

I was approached first by a young man with slicked back brown hair and an almost charming half smile.  He looked to be around 23, wore a pair of dickies and a shirt that looked a little too tight, and had a rather large silver cross around his neck.  The naivety showed in his eyes, yet he also looked eager.  I made a quick assumption that he hadn't sold many cars before, and tried to quickly decide the best way to rid myself of him.  "Good evening, Mr. Raz, congratulations on winning your prize today.  That has to feel good.  So tell me, are you looking at buying a car today?"  A little too eager for my taste, I decide.
"No, I'm pretty much just here for the prize money."
"Is that so? You know we've got some great deals going on.  Let me ask you a question, what do you drive right now?"
"An Acura Integra" I reply.
"Wow, they don't even make those any more do they?" he asked, not seeming at all curious for my answer.
"No, they stopped in 2001" I informed him.
"Well you know, a car that old, you have to start to worry about how long it's going to last.  Now we have some Honda's here that I can almost guarantee would outlast any Acura."
All of my what.  Every single shred of what.  For those of you who don't know, Honda makes Acura.  Acura cars are really just luxury Honda's, but the motors and all that other stuff, all Honda.  I can go to a junkyard, pull stuff out of a Honda Civic, and chances are it's a good match for my Integra, and while I don't expect that to be super common knowledge, this guy is literally in an industry where his knowledge of automobiles is directly proportional to how well he does.  Seeing that this is a Hyundai dealership, and Hyundai makes Kia, I decide to test just how far this lack of knowledge he has goes.
"Well I was kind of thinking about KIA, what do you think about them? Are they as good as a Hyundai?" I asked.
"In my opinion, nothing is as good as a Hyundai" he said, then he leaned in close. "And I damn sure wouldn't buy a KIA."
I laughed so hard I choked for a moment.  Young evil salesmen stared at me, a befuddled expression on his face.
"How long have you worked here, man?"
"A-a couple of months...Why?"
"Did you come with that lovely sense of brand loyalty or is that something that they breed into you fools when you walk through the door?"
"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Raz".
"I'll tell you what.  I want you to go over to where all of the other people who've worked here for a while are, and I want you to tell them what you just told me, and have them explain to you how everything that you just said implies that you are mentally infirm or in the wrong line of work."

[Raz Tech]

He started to object, stopped, started again, stopped, and then turned and walked away.  I followed him with my eyes as I walked over to the wall to get a cup of coffee.  He walked up to two older men, both wearing suits, and I saw them talk for a few minutes.  He pointed to me, and they all stood around in a pow-wow for a few minutes, the two older gentlemen talking and using pointed gestures towards the young man, until finally the two older gentlemen left for the back offices in the building and the young man tried to gather what composure he could and walk up to a younger lady who had just approached the prize counter.
Satisfied with the current state of affairs, having apparently tied up not one, but three evil used car salesmen at once, I attempted once more to retreat to the chairs in the lobby, to wait until the time came for me to cash out my prize.  And yet once more I was unable to reach the haven of the chairs and T.V. in the lobby.  Instead, I was greeted by a man that I will refer to as Don Juan.
Don was about 6 foot, and looked to be in his early thirties.  He wore slacks and a button up shirt that was only buttoned to about two buttons below my comfort level.  On each of his hands were two gaudy rings, index and ring on his right hand, and middle finger and pinky on his left hand, which I suppose was an effort to cautiously skirt the idea of a wedding ring.  Don, I surmised, was probably a pretty big hit with the ladies.  He was after all, a handsome dude and, as he introduced himself, was all smiles.
"So I hear that you're the guy giving our newest associate a hard time," he said, refusing to drop his practiced bravado.  "He's pretty new here, friend of the management so maybe he got a job a little quicker than he should have."
"So it would seem.  Don't you guys have some kind of crash course you could put these people through in order to prepare them for this job though?"
"We do, but I guess we don't teach everything.  Sometimes real world experience is the best.  Now what can I do you out of today, Mr. Tech?"
An interesting choice of phrases.  Maybe that's something for the ladies.  Maybe he thinks I'm a homosexual.  Maybe I'm reading too far into his vernacular.  All these things aside, I try for the straight approach.
"I'm just here to get some free money and leave", I said.
"Well come on, there has to be something around here that interests you.  I saw you pull up in an Integra.  Maybe you're looking for something sporty.  We have a Tiburon that's in very good condition, good aftermarket selection for it too.  We also have a couple of BMW's if luxury is more your style, like I think it is.  And your prize money could easily cut the payments on it down to pretty much nothing."
He was barking up my alley, and I think he knew it.  I decided that I would lay some cards down, part of a contingency plan I had made up in my week of prep time.  This would almost certainly get him off of my back for a while.
"I'm a pretty simple guy Don, I don't have expensive tastes.  You want me to let you in on a little secret? I got a cheap dream car.  All I want is an Acura RSX type S, and you know what, if you could find me one, I would be very tempted to buy it today.  I'd probably trade my car in for it.  Do you have any RSX-S', Don?"
Don's eyes lit up.  He thought he had me. He thought that he was putting me in a corner, and that he had already almost won.
"I don't think we have one on the lot, Mr. Tech, but I believe we might have something like that in our inventory.  Please have a seat while I go to check our system."
He hurried off, abandoning his cool, collected strut for a hurried walk back to the offices.  How curious, I thought.  They didn't have any RSX's here, and their sister dealership had an RSX but it wasn't a type S.  Would he try to sell me a base model instead? I supposed I would find out later, but for now it was finally my time to retreat to the couch.  I sat down and watched a local news reporter prattle on about local news things, and just bided my time.  I was getting awfully hungry at this point, and the cookies on the tray in front of me tasted stale and unsweetened.  This place was as horrid a pit of evil as I'd come across in my travels.

[Raz Tech]

After about 15 minutes Don returned to inform me that he had tracked down their sister dealerships RSX and it was being prepped for delivery right away.  This was a curious thought in itself, mostly because I could look out the window and see the other dealer in the distance.  What prep work could possibly be needed to drive a car down the street?  Whatever it was, it had at least bought me some time without being tracked mercilessly by the evil car salesmen who had surrounded me.  It was something like 45 minutes before Don returned.
"Your dream car is waiting right out front, Mr. Tech." Don informed me.
"I'll bet it is," I said, not shielding the dry sarcasm in my voice.
He looked confused for a second, then started to lead me outside.
I smiled when I saw it, sitting in the sun, looking pretty.  That's not why I smiled though.  I smiled because it was only pretty, not beautiful, and the subtle differences between the base RSX and the RSX type S were evident.  This was not the type S that I had hoped for.  This was a regular old base RSX.  For those not into cars, I may bore you for a moment, so feel free to skip the parenthesis. (The main difference in these two models is the engine.  The base is equipped with a K20A3, while the type S has either a K20A2 or K20Z1 depending on the year.  Other than that, the base only has cloth seats, different rims, different paint job, lesser sound system, and some other minor differences.)  Suffice it to say, I could tell very obviously that this was just a base model, not what I requested.  I walked around to the rear of the car, and sure enough, right there on the back was a bright emblem that proclaimed that this was, in fact, a type S and that everything I knew about a car I'd wanted since it first came out was wrong.  That or the association of evil used car salesmen was trying to dirty dick me into buying a car that wasn't even what they said it was.  There is no excuse for this.  It's time to take Don for a spin.  In all of the preparation I'd had for this event, this wasn't something I'd thought to plan for.  It was time to do my favorite thing.  It was time to wing it. 
Don still stood there with his smug grin, content that he had won this battle.  I smiled at him, and asked if he would be so kind as to give me the VIN so I could run it by a friend who would scan it as a favor.
"Of course," said the over-eager Don, and proceeded to read the VIN off to me.  I copied it into my phone as he read it, and didn't send it off to anyone, because I don't know anyone who sits around processing VIN numbers out of the kindness of his heart.
"While we're waiting for him to get back to me, let's take this baby for a test drive."
He obliged, and ran inside to get keys and paperwork and all that shit.  When he was out of sight I walked back to the rear of the car, where the shiny Type S emblem still sat.  I took two fingers, and pushed down on it as hard as I could.  It started to rotate.  I could see paint underneath it, as though it had been stuck on recently and hadn't yet dried enough to peel the paint off with it.  At this point it became painfully obvious.  Don Juan and his crew of evil used car salesmen were trying very, very hard to fuck me.  But they wouldn't.  I put the emblem back in its normal place and walked back to the driver's side before Don came back out.  I had to sign some papers, which I did agonizingly slowly, reading every letter so as to eat up as much time as possible.  When the paperwork was finally in order we left the dealership, me behind the wheel and Don sitting in the passenger's seat, still smiling like he was in the process of winning the lotto.  He informed me that there was an abandoned parking lot nearby where I could go if I wanted to check out the turning radius.
Oh no Don.  That's not how this is going to work.
I politely declined, heading instead to the interstate, probably driving a little faster than I should have been.  We rode in silence for about 10 minutes, at which point I decided to turn on the stereo.
"What kind of music do you listen to, Don?"
"Oh, I like all kinds, no preference."
"That's a bogus answer Don.  If you were trapped on a desert island with nothing but an assortment of CD's, which genre would you most like those CD's to be?"
"Um, well I guess classic rock.  You know like Led Zeppelin or Pink Floyd."
"BORING," I yelled, and changed the station to the local rap channel.
I sang every song I knew VERY faithfully, including the words I probably shouldn't be singing.  He started to look a little less comfortable.  When I finally turned down the radio and looked at him, I said "I thought the Type S had a better system than this.  Bose.  With a nice subwoofer."
"Maybe it was a different package?" He suggested.
"Maybe..."I said.  It's not.  There is no other package.  I started to feel like I was getting through to Don.  Like maybe he was starting to understand that he might not be the one holding all the cards.
I finally picked an off ramp arbitrarily, and turned right onto a busy road.  A big McDonalds sign came into view, so I stopped in the parking lot.
"Mr. Tech, we can't just stop and eat like this.  We need to bring this car back."

[Raz Tech]

"Relax, I'm just gonna grab a bite to eat, it'll only be a little bit.  It's dinner time.  Why don't you come in with me?  We can talk about what you think my car's trade-in value is."
He seemed to perk up a little at this idea, and he got out to follow me inside.  I wondered how long I could keep this up before it would technically become kidnapping.  Long enough, I figured.
We walked up to the cashier, a young lady, and I looked over at Don.
"What are you having, Don?" I asked.
"Oh, I didn't bring any money with me, sorry." He replied.
I looked back over to the cashier lady and said "can you believe this? This fuckin guy owes me 5,000 bucks and he wants me to pay for his lunch.  Does that seem low to you?"
McDonald's girl looked at him, then back to me, nodded quickly, and asked again for my order.  I got three cheeseburgers.  I got Don a small fry.  We sat down in the back of the restaurant, and Don started talking to me about how great it was to be able to sell me my dream car, and how he had a story just like mine, and blah blah blah, and how much he thinks my car might be worth.  I don't remember much of what he said, other than the fact that he seriously lowballed my car's value.  I don't remember because I was busy counting.  I chewed every single bite of food exactly 32 times.  Every 5 bites I would take a sip of soda.  After every cheeseburger I got up and refilled my drink.  I paused between bites just long enough to prod Don's boring narrative along, before returning to my slow mastication.  He talked for a straight 15 minutes.  Then he looked at his watch, another gaudy accessory.  He seemed fond of those.  We sat in uncomfortable silence for the next 5 minutes, and then he excused himself to the restroom.  I finished my burger and drink, threw away the trash, and went out to the car to wait for him.
When he finally returned, he looked a little more annoyed than usual.  It seeped through his practiced bravado, and I could tell he was getting a little anxious to get this trip over with.  I looked at him, and casually said "Don't these rims look a little smaller than what comes stock on an RSX-S?"
"No, they look like they're the right size," he said.  I could see him beginning to perspire slightly.  This pleased me.
"I could swear they should be an inch bigger.  Interesting."  I got back behind the wheel.
When we pulled out of the parking lot, we immediately hit a red light.  I shifted into first, and when the light turned green, I started off.  I didn't bother shifting though.  When we got to around 35ish I hit the rev limit, and cars started passing us.  I turned to Don.
"Seems a little sluggish, don't you think?"
"You uh-have to shift gears." He replied.  He was sweating more.
I smiled and laughed.  Then I popped in the clutch, maneuvered to fourth gear, and dumped the clutch as hard as I could, right as we were entering the interstate.  We took off, taking the corner at a pretty good clip.  I turned to Don again.
"Weird, doesn't handle like it has the anti-roll bars that are supposed to come standard on a type S."
He was too busy staring at the road in front of us.  I continued to gun it, still in fourth gear.
"It also doesn't feel like the IVTEC is kicking like it's supposed too.  How curious is that, Don?"
I felt that I was once again approaching deranged psycho-kidnapper territory, so I finally shifted to fifth gear and let off the accelerator.
"Shouldn't the gearbox have six gears?" I asked him.
"I think you have that confused with the newer models" was his reply.  I could see him trying to regain his composure now that we were slowing down to "safe" speeds.
"Sure does feel sporty, doesn't it?" He asked.
"Sure does" I said.
We finally made it back to the dealership.  It was nearly 7:30.  The event ended at 8:30.  When I gave Don back the keys he walked into the back rooms again.  I approached the prize lady.  She wouldn't have the prize money for another hour.  Pity, I thought, and I headed outside to have a cigarette while contemplating what my next move would be.
When I came back in, Don was still nowhere to be found.  Young boy tried to approach me again, but stopped short once he recognized me.  I walked back to the sofa and sat again to watch the television.  It was a different reporter now, commenting on different tragedies.  I stared off into the space around the T.V. for a while until the voice of Don Juan brought me back to reality.  He looked far less upset now.  He had also changed shirts, and reeked of cologne.
"Let's see what it will take to get you into that car" he said, the shit-eating grin sneaking back onto his face.
"Let's", I said.  But I knew full well that nothing he had to say would convince me to buy the car he had been lying to me about all evening.

[Raz Tech]

If you're ever buying a car in the future, keep this in mind.  The calculator is the evil car salesmen's best friend.  If he lets you use his calculator, or stare too hard at the buttons he's pressing on his calculator, or GOD FORBID HE GETS UP AND LEAVES HIS CALCULATOR UNATTENDED, he loses the game.  Because they don't really use the calculator to sum up the digits in front of you.  They use the calculator to type in numbers rounded in their favor and you, if you are un-initiated to the ways of the evil car salesmen, will put all of your poor, misguided, blind faith into whatever number that calculator comes up with.  If you believe that calculator, the terrorists win.  Next time, bring your own calculator.  Or do the math with them, slowly, on paper.  That helps to put them in the hot seat and can help you put the screws to them.  Now back to the story.
So there we were, sitting in one of the back offices.  It was pretty much just an oversized cubicle, adorned with various things that may spark interest in the regular people that evil car salesman Don interacts with on regular days.  An American flag, if patriotism is your thing.  A large crucifix, if Jesus is more your flavor.  A picture of him holding what I believe to be his wife.  Curiously, he is wearing a wedding ring in this picture.  Finally, there's a picture of him with his kids.  The wedding ring is again absent here.
He does some normal things, runs my credit score, chats me up about random topics, trying to get a feel for me better than what he got in the car.  I tell him that I live alone, no kids, no pets, am an atheist, don't watch television, and work as a lumberjack.  All of these things are bullshit (except atheism).  It seems like he doesn't have the ability to strike a chord with a lone lumberjack with no religious beliefs, so he drops the conversation and we wait in silence for the credit score to come back.  When it finally does, my credit score is excellent.  His face lights up again, subtly, but obvious enough for me to spot.
"Well we'll have no problem financing you!" He says.  Then we slip into the verbal duel that is negotiating prices.  I have the advantage here, because I have absolutely zero intentions of ever buying this car.  He does the usual tricks.  Talking around certain things, playing magic trick with his calculator, rounding numbers here, not subtracting numbers there.  We go back and forth like this a while, me doing the math in my head, and him coming up with slightly different figures each time.  Then he initiates another evil used car salesmen tactic, wherein they switch up the negotiation topic.  For example, if they are negotiating price and feel they aren't making much headway, they will switch to negotiating monthly payments.  These practices continue until an agreement is reached, or one of the parties dies of exhaustion.  Don is a formidable opponent in this respect, carrying out this duel of words for quite some time.  Finally, a figure is arbitrarily reached, still too high for my tastes, but almost good enough for him.  He informs me that he must go speak to a manager to ensure this deal is okay. (Protip: The manager usually doesn't exist, and this is a tactic to make you feel like you've succeeded.)  When he leaves the office, I snoop around the back of his desk.  The top drawer is full of most interesting things.  A star of David is near the top of the drawer, in the same frame as everything else in Don's office.  There's a couple of more pictures too, one of Don holding another man, wedding ring present again, and one of a small baby.  I guess Don must have dropped the idea that I was gay, but still didn't have anything to suit my adopted lone atheist lumberjack persona.  I put everything back and sat casually back into my seat.
Don came back a few minutes later.  He regretted to inform me that his manager couldn't quite take that offer, but that if we added a few hundred dollars to the figure we could make this a deal.
Shit.  I had come too close.  I had to think of something, and fast.
"How much would that come out to a month," I asked.  He sat down again, and sighed a little, barely audible.  He set his trust calculator down in front of him, and turned to the computer to punch in some numbers
"Because I was thinking," I said, snatching the calculator from under his watchful eyes.
"I don't think that the car out there is worth what you're asking.  I mean, you're trying real hard to sell me on a Type S, and let's just go ahead and look at how that all works out.  So, first things first.  That's a regular RSX engine.  It'll be about 2 grand for a similar condition  A2 model.  Then I'll have to swap it in myself.  Then there's the matter of the rims.  That's another 500 or so.  Then I'll have to get the sway bars and anti-roll bars that aren't equipped on the car out there.  Few more hundred.  And of course, the sound system just isn't what it should be.  So that's another 400 right there.  The interior is all wrong, and I doubt I can get that sorted out for less than another grand, and then there's the little issue of the transmission.  I'm going to need a brand new gearbox, and that is going to be another couple grand.  I'm willing to make a deal with you though.  I'll trade you my car for the RSX you've been trying so hard to sell me.  And on top of that, you'll give me the 5,000 dollars that I need to turn that car into the one that you've said you've been trying to sell me."
He looked appalled.  Every smile, every thin bit of that smug expression that he had been wearing throughout the day, was gone.  In this instant, I had stripped him of the usual air of bravado that comes with being an evil used car salesman, and it had been replaced by the look of a man who had just been defeated.
"I think we both know that I can't do that," he said.
"Well if you want anything other than that, I'll have to talk to my manager," I replied, then got up and strolled out of his office.
The event was pretty much over.  Don followed a few paces behind me, and we were just in time to see the young kid handing keys over to the lady who had come in behind me.  I turned back to Don, and said "Hey, looks like the new kid who doesn't know shit about cars did better than you did today.
I was finally cut a check, but it was for 100 dollars, as that was what the barcode on my invitation scanned as.  Still 100 dollars more than I had this morning, I thought to myself, and I got back in my car to finally go home, and reflect on what a wild ride the day had been.
Final thoughts:  I wonder if our friend Don learned anything from this experience.  I like to think that maybe it made him a better person, maybe he's a more honest individual, maybe he relies less on swindling and more on honesty.  That's the least likely scenario.  Most likely he chalked it up as a weird day with a weird stranger, and now he has a new story to tell at the office party where all the evil used car salesmen get together and have an orgy with midgets in an attempt to raise the devil.  Yep, that's definitely the more likely option.
The other lesson here may just be that somebody needs to remind my wife not to leave me at home alone, unsupervised for long periods of time.  You never know what I'll waste my time doing.
But maybe the real lesson should be mine.  I'm a sucker if I thought that I had actually won any good sum of money from those people.

[Pæs]

 

I thoroughly enjoyed this beautiful tale.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

Wow, I just read the last one, and now I am keenly aware that I need to start from the beginning and read the rest of them when I'm less tired and tipsy. 

[P3nT4gR4m]

Loved it!

[Junkenstein]

 

5/5. Excellently done. There's a ton of quality lines and genuine advice in there too.

Also, you kept Don away from others during the event doubtless costing him a nice chunk of event day commission. So Kudos for that too.

[Raz Tech]

I'm glad you guys enjoyed it 
I wish I had come up with something more witty to say to him at the end, but what are you gonna do...

5/5. Excellently done. There's a ton of quality lines and genuine advice in there too.

Also, you kept Don away from others during the event doubtless costing him a nice chunk of event day commission. So Kudos for that too.

Yeah, normally I would have felt a little bad about that.  I mean, even if they are sneaky bastards, they still have to eat.  And he either has a wife, a husband, or some kids to provide for.

He crossed a huge line when he flat out lied to me about what he was offering though.  He drew first blood.

[Junkenstein]

Do not feel bad about this. Keeping salespeople from earning commission is a holy task. If they're too stupid to notice when there's no chance of a deal you are MORALLY OBLIGATED to keep at it until they are enlightened.

You may also be interested in "Millionaires". I'll write that up shortly.

[Junkenstein]

The Millionaires game.


Occasionally, you may find yourself with fuck all to do and malicious intent. Something that may help pass the time is one of my favourite games: "Millionaires". Ideally, you need an accomplice.

Prep -
One of you, dressed however you normally dress
Your "advisor" - wearing suit or similar.

That done, pick your target. The easiest place for stuff like this is high-end car dealerships and such, Ferrari, Bentley, anyone who deals with people with more money than sense.

Walk in and start looking around. You may notice shitty looks directed at you. This is good. When you eventually get addressed by the salespuppet, your "advisor" should ward them away as quickly as possible. Protest a bit. They grab you and you move away for a hushed yet distinct conversation about your "win" and how this "first chunk of cash is to help get it out of your system which means buying a couple of X-cars, but not 5. You need to calm down". If the place is high end enough, and the salesperson greedy enough, they'll be hovering quite close now. Statement to the effect of "it's my money, I can do what I want" would normally be good. "Advisor" can now take a moment and ask the salesperson to be discreet due to your new-found wealth and adjustments. 

If you need a step-by-step of how to now get anything you want for a weekend test-drive, you've probably not done enough blagging to pull this off.

ETA - While the most immediate, abundant and obvious targets, they are by no means alone. This kind of shit has worked consistently in a range of places dealing with "luxury goods". As long as you adopt the mindset of "I'm rich as fuck" and keep asking for stupid or impractical things, you'll be golden.

[LMNO]

Raz, fantastic story.