Confessions Of A Car Salesman

March 17th, 2008

“I understand you want to sell cars.” The voice brought me back to the present. I looked up from the application. A man stood there smiling at me. He had carefully cut black hair. He wore a white shirt and a silk tie. As he extended his hand to shake, light flashed off a gold Rolex.

“I’m Dave. When you’re done filling that out have me paged and we’ll talk.”

He smiled again, evaluating me. Then he disappeared.

Nice guy, I thought. Maybe this won’t be so bad. I was about to begin work on the application when I looked around. I glanced toward the glassed-in office in the corner of the building. The one with the raised platform and the senior sales guys watching over the car lot. Dave was in there speaking to several of the older men in white shirts and ties. They all turned and looked at me.

It was too late to turn back now. I bent over the application and began writing.

– From a reporter who had worked “undercover” as a car salesman and came back spilling the beans that would shock you.

{Mad: Buy-one-get-one Porsche deal of a lifetime}