My Pretty Woman Moment

Photo by naldo45y

I have a really bad habit. I buy new cars. A lot. Because of the economy and the amazing salesperson that helps me, I’ve gone to buying CarMax cars. Still, about once every 1.5 years I really crave a new vehicle.

While most of my friends spend money on clothes or houses, I prefer the feel of a new, powerful engine as I accelerate past everybody on the interstate. I have a need for speed.

I’ve had my car 1.5 years as of yesterday, so this week I’m drawn to CarMax like an alcoholic to a bar. I get this high looking at all of the shiny vehicles as they glisten in the sun. The salesman who’s sold me four cars (that includes one was for my husband, one for my son) also gets all glassy-eyed and smiley when I enter the showroom floor. He knows it’s going to be a good day.

Two days ago I entered my second home. My sales guy found me on the lot, and we actually hugged. He’s like family to me now.

We proceeded to go out on a few test drives; I know the route by heart. I also know the fact that my salesman drives an old BMW, has one child, and a love of the Pittsburgh Steelers. We talk like Andy and Barney on the front porch.

What amazes me is that when I used to go to regular dealerships the (mostly) male salespeople would ignore me. I’d drive up, park, look around for at least thirty minutes while the guys stood outside the front door smoking and avoiding eye contact.

Finally I would ask somebody for their help, and the newest guy would lunge forward, shoved by the veterans. And I’m standing there, ready to buy that day with money I’ve earned.

I’d go back later with my husband, and three of the veterans would put out their cigarettes and charge us. It was like the running of the bulls; we had to repress every urge to avoid the stampede. Meanwhile, I would think, “Where were you when I was here by myself?”

I always had to deal with the nineteen year-old sales guys, one of whom took me on a test drive and wouldn’t allow me to drive. He averaged 80 mph through residential areas and stopped in a parking lot to do doughnuts, at which point I asked for him to let me out of the car. Where were the bulls then?

Here’s my fantasy: CarMax has a Lamborghini on the lot, and I buy it. Then I walk onto a car lot and pull a “Pretty Woman” moment. “See this Lamborghini? I bought it. Paid cash. You work on comission, right? Big mistake. Huge.”

That will be a Dame moment.[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tTtVVHg41kU[/youtube]

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