(All of this is gonna be followed by a huge duh but, bear with me) I've been a Server/Bartender for 15 years. I love the people that I work with but the physical problems and managerial horse sh*t were beginning to wear on me. I'm 36, married, have a 2 year old, renting an over priced house, and unable to get first time home buyers because of mine and my wife's student loans. A friend contacted me and presented me with a position at a local Kia. It seems like an easy decision and a way out. I accepted and skipped my way to the first day at the dealership.
I was paired up with my trainer. He was an old friend that i took to his first rave and introduced to Burner Culture. He was like a little brother to me. I thought if he could be success at this (knowing the person i met a decade ago) then I could be a honest car salesman.
We went through a program called ELead. It provides you with a series of prompts to contact prospective clients. You'd email, text, call, and send videos 2 times each daily along a certain timed schedule. They would do this to scores of people all day until they got an appt. Anytime a prospect would ask about price or financing, they were instructed to always redirect what kind of car are you looking for and most importantly, when you can you come to the dealership. I was told, “DTTS, don't tell them shit.”
I was then told how the information for elead was collected. Generally, You'd think it would be people that strictly submitted information to key. You're wrong. Let's say you fill out your info and decide, I don't want them to know this sh*t. You hit the X and forget about it. A key logger has already recorded all your info and sent it to elead. Suddenly, you're being harassed by a salesman.
That's minor compared to what I was told next. My brother in PLUR proceeds to tell me, ” never feel bad about the deal. These people are adults. They make their own decisions. Once it goes to financing, collect your money. It's not your problem anymore.” I ask him if he's ever felt bad about deal. He proceeds to tell me about getting a man with a brain tumor to sign papers he could even see to read. I'm f*cking horrified!
I tell my wife about it and she tells me, “you don't have to be that salesman . You need to stick to this.”
I try for two more days. I feel more and more suicidal at the prospect. I get up and my wife smiles and tells me I'm handsome as I put on my uniform. I want to cry. She's so proud of me for trying something new. “My mom wanted me to you how excited she is for you. That this was the right thing to do.”
I go to sales class. Our sales manager proceeds to explain to me how Asians and Indians are the hardest sales and elderly people are the easiest (because they're stupid and can be fast talked). He then begins to explain the banking system and how they make money on the backend by pushing “subprime” customers to shady banks. They trapped these struggling people in agreements that will have them paying 150 to 200% the actual value of their car. I remember how badly I got screwed on my Nissan and i can't bear to do that someone else. As for the elderly comment, I also imagine how I would want my own mother to be treated.
I got up the next morning, sent the sales manager a resignation, and made my way back to the restaurant I worked at. Now I have to explain myself to my wife.