How to make a grown man cry…

The first time my dad ever let me go with him to buy a new car was in 1950. I was twelve. It must have been a rite of passage thing. It seems to me that it was the first time that he had ever considered taking me along on a serious trip to accomplish a very important task.

We didn't go to  downtown San Mateo, oh no, we drove to San Francisco. Van Ness Avenue was "auto" row in those days and the buildings that the dealerships occupied were more like grand, multi-floored offices instead of the large, overcrowded lots we see today. There must have been someplace where the used cars were displayed. We never went there. All the salesmen were in suits, well fitted with sharp looking ties. They were all smoking, of course, gathered in the corner of the showroom probably doing rock, paper, scissors to see who got to talk to us (hah! a little salesman "ups" joke there). Did I mention that my dad was dressed up too, even though it was a Saturday. I had my best clothes on because we were in "the City". I'm trying to remember what the dealer's name was. Very famous and did a lot of advertising on the TV (when it came on around five in the afternoon, weekdays). The next "up" walked over to us and probably said something like, "they're really pretty THIS year and so much improved". My dad would be courteous and appear to be disinterested as if he had come in to wait out a rain shower or something. He would answer the salesman's initial words with something like "How could they have changed all that much in the last few years?" Of course the salesman would then take the bait and begin to explain all of the details about the new trim lines, colors, models and other "important" information. My dad already knew exactly what he was going to buy that afternoon. He also knew that if the car he wanted was in the building, it would be his in a few hours. I think he enjoyed "playing" the salesman like a trout in a shallow stream. The salesmen always thought that they were going to "catch" my dad. The truth of the matter is that he caught them.

After fifteen minutes or so of demonstrating Ford's new line of cars, the salesman began to think that no one could resist the urge to get whatever model came through the huge double doors in the back of the showroom. Pop would ask a more specific question which would make the salesman "go in the back" and find out. It could be about the model or a certain color availability, or even something like (gasp!), "do you have one ready to deliver today?"

Then Pop reached for the net.