Tales from Sales: Bitch Better Have My Money

“I want my hundred bucks by the end of the day!” the young man roared, his face resembling that of an angry pine marten. It was one thing to scoop another sales guy’s deals; it was something else to take money out of a colleague’s pocket.

A little known perk of selling cars here is the open understanding that when a less than desirable vehicle is taken in on trade, the sales staff member responsible for that deal is expected to “leverage relationships” and shop the trade. This involves calling or visiting the several dozen local used car wholesalers in order to get maximum dollars for the wretched heap. The Dealer Principal wants quality used cars on his lot; rusty, fetid econoboxes that smell like an ashtray and mashed turnips are not welcome.

Real example: a tall, statuesque brunette named Jenn (yes, we dated; yes, it ended quite poorly with me staring down the barrel of her work-issued revolver – true story) traded her ten year old Cavalier, complete with a great indentation in the driver’s seat from her fabulous arse, for a new Focus. The best part of the Cavalier (aside from the seat) was the Sheltie dog she left sleeping in the back while she took the new Focus for a test drive. I got the promise of $1200 for the Cavalier, plus a $100 cash tip from the wholesaler for bringing the car to him.

That was the point of this gritty element of automotive commerce; if a wholesaler was known for giving good tips, the best (of the worst) trades would be brought to him first. Note that I’m not being sexist here – there are no female wholesalers in our town. None. There’s an observation there, I think.

Is it bribery? I prefer to think of it as a technique to grease the wheels of commerce and I find the whole process to be as entertaining as chasing a tiger who has stolen your wallet. Mercifully, our Dealer Principal is open about the practice and, if not actively encouraging, at least turns a blind eye. Alternatively, some dealerships allegedly fire people for “taking a Ton”.

The conversation that raised the young buck’s ire at the beginning of this story stemmed from the actions of a friend at a rival dealership, one where accepting money from a wholesaler is verboten. I had dropped in to visit Chris for the sole purpose of showing off my new demo. My haughty derision was directed at Chris because he had recently been busted down to a Penalty Box as punishment for screwing up a recent deal while I had just been awarded a full size pickup. We are a supportive bunch.

“What the hell are you on about?” said Chris to the Young Buck, not even looking up from the forms he was filling out for a new car delivery he had that afternoon.

“Don’t shit me!” Young Buck roared back. “You made a display of helping me with my first trade by calling the wholesaler and bringing the car to him. I just talked to the guy and he says I should have gotten a hundred frickin’ dollars!” Keep in mind the dealership is not all that big, and this guy’s voice carried. Heads were starting to pop up out of cubicles.

Chris was caught red-handed. It would appear that, in a fit of poor decision making, he pocketed the $100 tip, figuring that Young Buck would be none the wiser. Chris was wrong.

“Lower your voice or you’ll get us both fired.” Chris shot back. “I’ll have your money in the morning.”

“You’d better.” glared Young Buck, inexplicably throwing a couple of his business cards at Chris. I was helpless with silent laughter. I later learned that Young Buck did indeed get his money and has since gone on to be a consistent performer at that dealership. Good for him.

A hundred bucks; a Ton; a Century. The term varies from dealer to dealer. Its appeal, however, is shared by everybody. As a trade-in, clapped out cars hold a lot more sway than you may think.