“I don’t understand. Your man told me on the phone that you had a Honda Fit on the lot for $8,999,” the customer says. “Now you’re telling me that you don’t have the car for that price. That is false advertising.”
It is a Saturday night at the dealership, and I really do not know what to do with this customer. He stands before me in a New York Mets baseball cap, a plain white t-shirt, shorts and flip flops. His wife, who holds a small baby in her arms, stands quietly watching in the background.
“Well, sir,” I attempt to answer, “we have not had a Fit on the lot for a while. They go pretty quickly. Usually when one comes in, the customer has pre-ordered it. Who was it that told you we had one?”
“Curly Green,” the customer says. “He specifically told me not one hour ago that you had that car on the lot. I want to speak to him.”
“He usually works the day shift,” I say. “Let me see if he is available. You guys are welcome to wait inside at one of the tables if you want? Follow me.”
I lead them in and have them sit at a table close to the big screen television set.
Tony is inside, too, and he watches me seat them.
I know full well that Curly is here until closing on Saturdays, but I need to see how he wants to handle this before I unload these people on him.
I walk back to Curly’s office, out of sight of the customers.
“Wally!” Curly exclaims as I walk in.
“Hey Curly, I have a situation out on the floor.”
“What’s going on?” Curly asks.
“This young guy and his wife, they came in claiming that you told them we have a Fit for $8,999?”
“Oh, they’re here?”
“Yep. I sat them down at a table.”
“We got anything close to that kind of car?” Curly asks.
I am a little surprised. “Maybe something in used. Definitely nothing in new. The closest in new is the Civic, you know.”
“Well, show them something in used.” Curly says…
Curly is a sympathetic figure to me. He is an overweight black man in his 50s, suffering from a variety of health problems, the most serious of which deal with his stomach. His stomach constantly gives him pain, and it always looks to be abnormally swollen to me. He had some sort of surgery dealing with his intestines not long ago, though I have not asked him the details about it. He wears thick and dark glasses, as the light hurts his eyes. He also has a bad knee and waddles around the dealership. I am not sure what his job title at the dealership is. He is not a salesman, but works in marketing.
In one era of his life, Curly was a professional football player for the Boston Patriots. Now, times are not as good, though.
Not long ago, he asked me if he could borrow $20, which I gave him. He has not repaid me or mentioned when he will.
On another night, though, he helped me charge a car battery that had gone dead. Curly hooked up the wires wrong. Sparks flew, and he said his arm got a good jolt.
Curly also has a great sense of humor. When it is slow outside, he will sometimes come out to pass the time with the salesmen, horsing around and telling jokes.
His favorite salesman to pick on is Beaver. The two trade barbs quite often, though Curly far outclasses Beaver in the quality and number of insults he is able to hurl. They also play fight a bit, for as much as the two can. Like I said, Curly is in his 50s with failing health. Beaver is a chubby but energetic 19 or 20 year old, with the mentality and attitude of a teenager.
Curly boxed some in his younger years, and claims to still have quick hands. He got Beaver a little upset a few days ago. They were mock boxing and Beaver was trash talking to Curly about being an old man.
“Come, on!” Curly said. “Bring your best stuff, boy!”
When Beaver stepped in, Curly surprised him and slapped him upside the head. We all burst out laughing and taunted Beaver with “Oooh!” and “Ohhhh!”
Beaver lost his temper a bit and actually kicked Curly in the stomach, though not very hard.
The shocked look that Curly gave Beaver let me know just how bad the condition of his stomach must be. He looked like a man who had just been stabbed. Beaver did not know how to react…
“Well, show them something in used,” Curly says to me about the family in the lobby.
“Okay,” I respond. “I can try, but I really don’t think that is going to work. The guy is set on the Fit and the price you quoted. He wants to see you, actually.”
“I’m not here,” Curly says.
Somewhat befuddled as to why Curly would cross these people up like that, I go back out to talk to them.
“Curly is not available right now,” I say. “I’m sorry you guys got the wrong information, but we don’t have a Honda Fit here. We can order one for you, but I don’t think we can get you that price. We should have some pre-owned cars that are pretty close, though.”
The young man is disgusted.
“When is Curly going to be available? I want to see him. I know he’s here. I just spoke with him an hour ago.”
I look at the man for a moment, thinking of what to say.
“Let me get you my manager.”
Tony is watching all of this from across the room.
When he sees me walk toward him, he subtly motions for us to go down a hallway, out of sight and hearing from the irate customers.
“What are you doing with these people?” he asks.
“The guy is pretty upset,” I say. “Curly told them that we have a Fit here for $8,999. Obviously, we don’t. Now, they want to talk to Curly, but Curly does not want to talk to them.”
“Curly is just doing his job,” Tony says. “Curly’s job is to call customers and get them on the lot any way he can. Your job is to protect Curly. Your job is to sell these people when they come on the lot.”
“Well, how am I supposed to do that when they’ve already been promised a deal?” I ask.
“Get them to test drive another car.”
“They’re not going to be interested in that, Tony.”
“Then they are f***ing roaches,” Tony says. “Brush them off and go get another up.”
Wow, I think to myself. “I told them that I would get the manager.”
“I’ll say something to them,” Tony says.
We both walk back out to the sales lobby. Tony does not wait for me to introduce him.
“Hello folks, I’m Tony, the manager here.”
“Tony,” the customer begins, “Curly Green, one of your employees, told me that you had a new Fit here for 8,999. Now your salesman here is saying you do not have one. What’s the story?”
“I apologize,” Tony says. “There must have been a miscommunication. You are not going to find a brand new Fit for that price anywhere in the country. We do have the best prices in Las Vegas, though. Nathan will be glad to show the selection on our lot. We’ll find a car that meets your needs at the price you want. So, you are looking for a compact of some sort?”
The customer is having none of it, though. He stares directly at me. “You’ve been the most honest person here,” he says. “I can tell by the look on your face. I want you to go find Curly, wherever he is, and say that there are some very disappointed customers in his store right now, and he needs to come out and make this right.”
I look at Tony.
“Go see if Curly is available,” Tony says with a blank expression and tone, clearly indicating to me that Tony wants me to leave Curly alone.
Tony continues to talk to the family as I walk off once more toward Curly’s office. I do not intend to bother Curly with this again, and I am just going through the motions. I see Curly, not at his desk, but sitting in a chair down the hall by the vending machine, eating a Snickers bar. He is hiding out.
Curly sees me and shakes his head. Even with dark glasses covering his eyes, I clearly observe the pained expression of shame on his face. That decides me. Even though Curly was wrong to tell the customers a lie, I am on his side. The man is struggling to survive. I see that in all that he is forced to do and endure as part of his daily existence.
These people will just have to get over their disappointment. We do not have the car. I am sorry. End of story and good bye.
I walk back to the sales floor with a new sense of purpose, ready to bite the bullet. It turns out not to be necessary, though. The people are outside getting back into their car.
Tony stands on the sales floor and I walk up to him.
“Go get another up,” he says.
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