I Bought a Car!

Catherine Saliba

I bought a car, but nothing is simple. Always there is a story involved. There I was, driving down the highway in my 11-year-old Saturn to buy gas. That was all; A quick trip just to fill up. Ha! Has a woman ever set out to do an errand and confined herself to complete only one task?

I thought since I was on the highway I would try again to find the Toyota dealership located in a different town. I really did need a new car, something reliable. And in my mind, Toyota epitomized reliability. I had attempted this trip before but without success. I get lost very easily. Which is precisely why it was such a big deal driving this distance to visit a dealer.

My philosophy is to NEVER buy anything, see a doctor or dentist, etc. that is located outside of my safety zone. I am a slave to convenience. So I drove about 10 hours (well, not that long) and found the dealership. However, there was construction surrounding the building which made it impossible to enter the parking area.

When I finally managed to get into the dealership parking lot, I stormed into the store. Right on cue-similar to how they teach it in a car manual-I was quickly greeted by a couple of eager young men. I beat them to the punch, though when I lit into these poor, unsuspecting salesmen.

"How do you expect to sell cars when you make it so difficult just to drive into the parking lot of this?" I asked.

The salesmen began to back away from me and as they did an older man introduced himself as "Mohamed Ali." I think to myself "Where am I, in the loony bin?" He handed me his business card and sure enough, his real name was Mohamed Ali. I assured him I was just beginning to search for a car and intended to compare prices, deals and all.

In my hand I clenched a big stack of papers, research I had done beforehand. I learned much of what I needed to know about my first choice, the Camry and what the blue book value of my old Saturn would be. I detected a hint of a wry smile on Mohamed's face. Well, no matter. What did count was that he agreed to take on the task of assisting me to make a vehicle choice. Brave man.

Eventually I did find the car, but then had to decide what extras were needed and what were not. Of course, the extras that in my mind, were absolutely essential far outnumbered the ones that were not.

Now, it was time for a deal. We went into his office and he started to explain (aghhhh!) financing. I could get a $750 dollar rebate if I paid in full. If I paid on time...no, I couldn't have zero percent financing which is what I wanted. Interest would be 1.9 percent. Blah..Blah..Blah, and on and on.

There was much more. My head hurts thinking about it. As I said, it went on and on because I wanted what I wanted (like a remote starter, for instance), and I did not understand much of what the finance officer was saying, nor was I really listening. My eyes were beginning to glaze over.

I had arrived at the dealership at 11:00 a.m. It was now 3:00 in the afternoon. The salesman was very patient and kind but his eyes were also glazing over. He finally said "Okay, okay. You can have the rebate. You can have 1.9 percent interest. You can have the remote starter! And...I'll give you $500 for your Saturn."

It may only have been worth $100 even though the Blue Book's value was listed as $1,000. There was however, that $900 wroth of damage from an accident I'd had. A tiny one; not my fault. But the car had a new muffler. That was worth something, wasn't it? Maybe that was his plan all along. Who knows?

Next, the infamous paperwork. I think this was the point during the afternoon when I was ushered into a lounge to wait. Again? They told me to watch TV while I waited. "Would you like the channel changed," they asked? Playing on the room-size TV screen was a stock market program. It was tuned into the New York Stock Exchange and the time was (gasp) 20 minutes before closing bell. I glanced surreptitiously around the room which was occupied by several men, all in business suits and all following the television program. I was the only woman present and soon realized I didn't dare tune the TV into Dr. Phil.

Finally, upward and onward and into the paperwork. Apparently this was to be handled by someone other than my new friend Mohamed. In the middle of it all the computer crashed. Even IT was worn out. While the computer rested I phoned my son-in-law for his opinion on auto security systems.      

At last I was ready to leave with my new car. It was now around 6:00 in the evening and suppertime. As I approached the exit door I mentioned to a young man that I couldn't wait to tell my grandsons I had bought a car from Mohamed Ali! He reached into his pocket, pulled out his business card and said "That's nothing," he said, "my name is Gilligan!" Aghhhh!

Later that day I received an email from the Toyota dealership: "Dear Ms. Saliba. On Behalf of Brunswick Toyota, I would personally like to thank you for your recent vehicle purchase and I trust that your experience was a pleasant one."