I had the pleasure of looking for a new(used) car recently. This was quite the educational adventure for me. Mazda is Japanese for those of you that thought it was Ford. It's not Ford. I've always been a little bit afraid of car salesmen. Being a young, single, blonde girl has a lot to do with that. I've always been told never to car shop without a guy in tow because I'll be taken advantage of. I went to the first dealership completely alone and was a little bit too enthusiastic. Apparently you have to act like you hate the car you love in order to actually buy it. It's a lot like dating come to think of it. Play hard to get. Don't be too enthusiastic. Make sure the ball is in your court at all times. Make dealers jealous of each other. Be mysterious. Yep-exactly like dating. Especially since the salesmen are always complimenting you and telling you what you want to hear even if it isn't true. "Wow-you're a really good driver! You picked up on that manual transmission switch over really fast!" I'd really like to believe that my driving skills are stellar in comparison to others-but they're really not and I know it full well.
A lot of people go into a dealership thinking the dealer is in charge. Not so. The buyer is always in charge. I like to be in charge so, as you can imagine, I was completely in my element. I went to a different dealer and played all my cards exactly right. I wasn't too enthusiastic. There were several times during the test drive that I wanted to scream and yell and cheer because I loved the car so much-but I didn't. I simply said "Ok." to everything the dealer was telling me. He tried his absolute best to crack some sort of positive response but was never successful. I also compared this particular dealer's car to the dealer's cars I had seen the previous day.
We went into his cubicle to talk about pricing. This is where it gets really tricky. It's like having a DTR (Define The Relationship) in the dating process. Everybody hates it, but it's a necessary evil. The dealer gave me his "best price," and I looked at him long and hard for at least a minute. Never underestimate the power of the pause. I knew this wasn't his best price and so did he. He was testing me. I asked the magic words "Is that REALLY the best you can do? That car just isn't worth that price to me." Mind you-a car is ONLY worth what someone is willing to pay for it.
The rest of our negotiation went something like this: I made an offer and the dealer went to talk to his boss. He came back with an answer. "Sure, we can sell it at this price. When you add on taxes, licensing fees, etc. it comes out to about the same price I gave you before." Me: "Well then that doesn't sound like a deal to me at all. No, I want the car at THIS (I pointed to my offer on the paper in case he wasn't sure) price out-the-door. Fees included." Dealer: "Are you planning on trading your car in?" Me: "I don't even have a reasonable price from you yet. Trading a car is not an option at this point." Dealer: "Let me talk to my boss." Me: "Fine." Dealer: "Ok, if you buy the car today I can give it to you at this price OTD (out the door for those you that were wondering if I was talking about some kind of disease). To which I replied: "Great. Now let's talk about my trade in." Dealer: "Oh, so you are doing a trade? (They hate this, by the way, but you can't give away all your assets at once. You've gotta hold on to the buying power). We'll give you this much for it." Me: "Fine. If you bring the price down another couple hundred dollars I'll pay cash right now (another thing-never tell a dealer how you're paying until the very last minute)." Dealer: "let me talk to my boss." Me: "Fine." Dealer: "Sign here and you've got yourself a deal." Me: "Give me a full tank of gas and I'll sign right now." Dealer: "Done." My boss gave me a lot of tips of how to wheel and deal while being completely honest. I didn't want to feel slimy or dishonest at all about my negotiation. The great thing is-I really feel proud of the way I handled it. The salesman I was dealing with (Mike) was completely thrown off by my frankness and knowledge of the car I was looking at (a Mazda 3 by-the-by). I did my homework and it really paid off. I got the car down to just about the exact price that I wanted. Also, right after I sealed the deal, a guy around my age came up to me and said he had been looking at that very same car for 3 weeks now and that he was negotiating for it with his salesman at the same time I was, but that I somehow beat him out. No wonder that other salesman kept glaring at me.
That being said, I absolutely love the car. In fact, everyone I've talked to that owns or has owned a Mazda 3 loves them. So, should you have a series of unfortunate events (much like Lemony Snicket) with your present car, I highly recommend you look into buying a Mazda 3.
Zoom-zoom.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Comfort
A while back I got a phone call from a friend of mine who had just called off her engagement. I listened to her cry and mourn the loss of the life she thought she would have. My heart went out to her. I wanted so badly to say the right thing. I said something, which, at the time, I thought was very comforting. It went something like this, "Well, at least you figured out that he wasn't the right one before you actually got married so you don't have to go through the pain of a divorce. You'll find the right guy when the time is right. You're lucky your relationship didn't end like Lacey Peterson's, right?" Ok. So the Lacy Peterson probably wasn't the most sensitive thing to say, but you catch my drift. I was trying to make her realize that her situation wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been.
Finding myself in her same situation about one year after that conversation I had several people say similar things to me. "At least you broke it off and realized you weren't right for each other before you got married unlike so and so. Her divorce is awful." "At least it didn't end badly like so and so's relationship." It was then that I realized that those words are in no way comforting. In fact, I've come to the conclusion that it is never ok to "one up" someone's pain when they are still, in fact, feeling the pain. Sure, they might later recognize the fact that you're right. They might acknowledge that things could have been worse for them. In their time of pain, though, it is certainly not necessary to point out the fact that 99.9% of the world is probably worse off than they are. I'm positive that the person who told me about their daughter's horrible marriage/divorce seconds after I told them about a recent breakup did in no way comfort me or make me feel better. In fact, it made me feel as if I didn't have a right to mourn, and that my situation was not even worth mentioning.
Recently my father had his car stolen with some very valuable (but more importantly sentimental) things inside of it. Naturally, being the protective daughter that I am, I was furious. First of all, I have never been able to understand the mentality of a person who steals something because he/she wasn't willing to work for it in the first place. This is America. Get a job, make some money, save it up, and go buy your own car. Stealing is just plain lazy. That's beside the point, though. I was angry and venting to a friend. My friend said something like "Well, at least your dad wasn't hurt. Plus, he's still well off. In fact, he's more well off than most of the world." He one-upped my...I mean my dad's...situation. And Sure. I'm all for that. It's awesome that he wasn't yanked out from the driver's seat by the villain and left to die on the side of the road while said villain drives off in my dad's car. I get that. I now recognize the fact that it could have been worse and that my family was actually very blessed. Had I been in a less aggravated mind state I'm sure it would have made perfect sense to me. But really? It can ALWAYS be worse. That doesn't make our frustrations or pains at the time any less real.
While I completely understand the fact that everything needs to be put in perspective, I also feel there is a right time to do so. It's perfectly human and normal to feel pain and frustration. We're allowed that. The most beautiful thing about that is that our Savior, himself, felt every single one of those pains. He understands those pains/frustrations we, as humans, inevitably feel. He knew we would feel that. He warned us of those pains/frustrations. What's even better is that He doesn't ever, ever, ever compare us to anyone else. It's so nice to know that when I go to my Savior for comfort He is there for me and me alone. He doesn't say things like "Well, you know, Emily, your life is not nearly as hard as the rest of the world. Suck it up." He doesn't ever actually "say" anything to me at all, actually, for those of you that were wondering. =) He allows me my time to feel the pain, and then gently nudges me to seek out and help those individuals around me whose situations are more dire than my own. I live a pretty darn good life. That doesn't absolve frustrating days, though. I think it's important to comfort others more like our Savior comforts us--without comparison to others.
Finding myself in her same situation about one year after that conversation I had several people say similar things to me. "At least you broke it off and realized you weren't right for each other before you got married unlike so and so. Her divorce is awful." "At least it didn't end badly like so and so's relationship." It was then that I realized that those words are in no way comforting. In fact, I've come to the conclusion that it is never ok to "one up" someone's pain when they are still, in fact, feeling the pain. Sure, they might later recognize the fact that you're right. They might acknowledge that things could have been worse for them. In their time of pain, though, it is certainly not necessary to point out the fact that 99.9% of the world is probably worse off than they are. I'm positive that the person who told me about their daughter's horrible marriage/divorce seconds after I told them about a recent breakup did in no way comfort me or make me feel better. In fact, it made me feel as if I didn't have a right to mourn, and that my situation was not even worth mentioning.
Recently my father had his car stolen with some very valuable (but more importantly sentimental) things inside of it. Naturally, being the protective daughter that I am, I was furious. First of all, I have never been able to understand the mentality of a person who steals something because he/she wasn't willing to work for it in the first place. This is America. Get a job, make some money, save it up, and go buy your own car. Stealing is just plain lazy. That's beside the point, though. I was angry and venting to a friend. My friend said something like "Well, at least your dad wasn't hurt. Plus, he's still well off. In fact, he's more well off than most of the world." He one-upped my...I mean my dad's...situation. And Sure. I'm all for that. It's awesome that he wasn't yanked out from the driver's seat by the villain and left to die on the side of the road while said villain drives off in my dad's car. I get that. I now recognize the fact that it could have been worse and that my family was actually very blessed. Had I been in a less aggravated mind state I'm sure it would have made perfect sense to me. But really? It can ALWAYS be worse. That doesn't make our frustrations or pains at the time any less real.
While I completely understand the fact that everything needs to be put in perspective, I also feel there is a right time to do so. It's perfectly human and normal to feel pain and frustration. We're allowed that. The most beautiful thing about that is that our Savior, himself, felt every single one of those pains. He understands those pains/frustrations we, as humans, inevitably feel. He knew we would feel that. He warned us of those pains/frustrations. What's even better is that He doesn't ever, ever, ever compare us to anyone else. It's so nice to know that when I go to my Savior for comfort He is there for me and me alone. He doesn't say things like "Well, you know, Emily, your life is not nearly as hard as the rest of the world. Suck it up." He doesn't ever actually "say" anything to me at all, actually, for those of you that were wondering. =) He allows me my time to feel the pain, and then gently nudges me to seek out and help those individuals around me whose situations are more dire than my own. I live a pretty darn good life. That doesn't absolve frustrating days, though. I think it's important to comfort others more like our Savior comforts us--without comparison to others.
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