In my last entry, Pop had sent the salesman to the back of the showroom to check on some feature or detail that the Ford man couldn't answer directly. Having found out earlier that the exact car he had planned on was, in fact, in stock, and since my dad had also found out from somewhere else just exactly what that car was selling for (MSRP), he got out his check book and wrote a check for the offer. I never knew just how he figured how much to take off the asking price (now you figure about 84-87% is the dealer's cost). Anyway, when the fellow came back, dad handed him the check and said "I'll take the chartreuse convertible, with the tan top and black interior. This is what I'll pay you for it and I'll take the car home right now." The salesman never saw the net surround him. He staggers, twists, looks at the check amount and his face turns white. "You can't get this car for that price. No way, not today, not tomorrow!"
Immediately, Pop says to me, "Let's go Butch! They're not interested." We head for the front door. My dad's pace is hard to keep up with because he's nearly running for the door. The salesman, his fingers now touching because the check is gone, says nothing. Now before you think that we have been rude, I have to say that maybe my memory is not really accurate. Maybe dad said casually that he wants his check back, receives it, and then turns. I don't know because I'm as surprised as the salesman.
As the door begins to swing back closed after our exit, it's caught midway and the salesman says "Wait, Mr. Wilson!" Can't we talk about this? My dad says no and we continue across the sidewalk to our car, parked on Van Ness nearby. The salesman is soon accompanying us to the car and wondering what he could "do" to make this a happy day for everybody. Dad says simply, "Sell me the car!"
"I couldn't possibly do that, it's below our cost, no one buys for that these days."
"Well, I guess I thought you were in the car sales business"
"We want to see you in that car, but I just CAN'T do it that way!"
"OK" and dad opens the door on the driver's side of our car and I wait for him to unlock my side.
Somewhat pale, the salesman says "Can you wait a minute while I ask my boss?"
"I don't want to waste my time. There is another dealer down the peninsula and one in San Mateo who knows me. I thought you guys were competitive, I guess not. It's getting late and we have to get going."
"No wait. I think I heard that we had a deal going on this week end to help clear out a few cars. Let me check with the sales manager."
Dad closed his door, still standing in the street. I felt embarrassed at the loud conversation, but felt somehow that I wouldn't be going home in the same car we came in.
The salesman led us through the length of the showroom, up the stairs and down a hall. He knocked on the opaque glass door and opened it, asking whether whomsoever was inside had a moment. He did and we were ushered into an office with a huge desk and four chairs. The only thing on the desk was one of those crank operated adding machines and an ash tray.
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