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A SUCKER DOESN'T
ALWAYS GET SUCKERED

   Someone has to jumpstart the economy, and it might as well be me. That's why I decided to buy a new car.
   "I'm off to get swindled," I announced to my wife as I walked out the door one morning last week on my way to the Ford dealership. "Wish me luck."
   "I don't think luck has anything to do with it," she replied. "You just have to be big and strong and stand your ground. I know you can do it."
   No, I can't. It's not my style. I see something I like and I crumble. I'm just not comfortable working the price to the absolute bare minimum. I always give it a half-hearted try, and generate some success, but in the end I know I could have done better.
   This time wasn't any different, except instead of a grizzled old veteran car salesman who knew all the tricks, I was greeted by a 25 year old novice who was eagerly waiting to swindle me. That hurt a little bit.
   "How 'ya doing today?" he asked as I stepped out of my 2014 Ford Escape that had seen better days. "Looking to trade this in for a new ride?"
   I already didn't like him. But first impressions aren't everything, so I decided to give him a chance. Besides, he hadn't even swindled me yet.
   I knew what I wanted, and I told him so. He walked me to the back lot, all the while jabbering incessantly about absolutely nothing, trying valiantly to get to know me. It wasn't working.
   The best thing about COVID is that he couldn't go with me on the test drive. I cruised around in my car of choice all by myself, enjoying the solitude. When I returned, he was waiting.
   "You're looking good in that car," he falsely exclaimed. "What can we do to make it happen today?"
   I wanted to say "Get a personality" but I didn't. Instead, I told him I liked it, but it was the wrong color and I wanted some specific options.
  "Not a problem," he answered. "Let's see if I can locate one from another dealer and we'll get it here for you."
   I nodded solemnly, knowing what was coming. Sure enough, I was escorted to his desk where I sat and waited for my impending execution. After an interminable 20 minutes, he returned with a big smile of his face.
   "Found it!" he exclaimed, as though it was a miracle. "I can have it here tomorrow morning. And here's our best price."
   He handed me a sheet of paper with a bunch of line items, including a whopping $4000 rebate. Who could argue with that?
   "What about my trade-in?" I said. "If you can give me a good price for it, we've got a deal."
   That may have been one of the dumber statements I've ever uttered. If there's one certainty in life, it's that you will always be extremely disappointed by the amount of money a dealer will give you for your car in trade.
  "Let me see what I can do," he said, leaving me alone once again. "I'll be right back."
   20 minutes later, he returned. He handed me a sheet of paper with the price, too embarrassed to say it out loud.
   "THAT'S INSULTING!" I cried when I saw the number. "I'D BUY IT FOR THAT PRICE!"
   "That's the best we can do," he replied, citing all the little things that were wrong with it. "You can always sell it privately and get more."
   I thought about all the murderers, gang members and burglars who would answer the ad and come by my house. I decided against it. Instead, I went to work and got him to give me an extra $500 (after waiting another 20 minutes). My wife would be so proud of me.
   Then I went a step further. The next morning I noticed I didn't have enough gas to get to the dealership to consummate the deal. I stopped at the gas station and put a whopping five dollars of gas into the tank, just enough to get me there. Brilliant.
   While I was signing the papers later that morning, the salesman stopped in to say that they were taking my new car to a nearby gas station and filling it up, as I knew they would.
   Heh, heh, heh. I wasn't about to be completely outwitted by that 25 year old whippersnapper. He probably never even thought about the gas angle. I drove off in my new car with a smile on my face.
 

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