The brother of the mechanic that works at my dealership came in the other day driving a Ford F-350 Super Cab 4x4 diesel with 141,000 miles on it. He crowed that he’d stolen it, only $14995 from a little dealer up in Lincoln. Just out of curiosity, I booked the thing out and determined that the dealer had made about a four-pounder. Good for him.
It got me thinking that the best customer you can have is the guy whose head you tore off who thinks he screwed you. It doesn’t get any better than that! This got me thinking about prices in general. I’ve always contended that price is a state of mind, a perception of value that is not necessary true.
Philosophers ask the question of a tree falling in the forest. If no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound? The same may be true about the grosses on cars (and other things people buy) if you can dig the analogy. It’s all an interpretation of value.
Now propeller heads have their own definitions of price vs. value. In their world no business has the right to a profit—especially if it’s from them. Normal people think of value in terms not only of price, but of the experience they had purchasing their beloved hunk of iron. I have told particularly obnoxious customers who fire the salvo of “I want the best possible price” that I wasn’t interested in giving the best price. I was interested in giving them a fair deal; fair for me, fair for them. Unfortunately that’s usually a conversation ender.
That brings back the question of what is fair? My old beloved GM, Freddie Martin Jr., used to say that as long as they bought the car for what it was listed for or less, it was a fair deal. The trick is convincing a customer what’s fair, and that’s the most important skill a car man develops over the course of his career.
I was thinking also about how many ups I’ve taken in my thirty-eight years in the business. I suspect I could fill a ballpark with a pretty respectable crowd. How many test drives? Enough to empty an oil tanker, I suppose. How many “fair” deals? Enough for me to raise a family and put a roof over my head.
So whenever I run into a guy like my mechanic’s brother who thinks he pulled one over on a Car Man, I think to myself, “This is what makes America great.” He’s happy, the salesman’s happy, a few thousand dollars gets thrown back into the economy helping to oil the gears of our society. It’s the stuff that dreams are made of.
I did say one thing to the guy. “Don’t go by the dealership for a few days, because I suspect that the guy might be out on a three day drunk!”
In retrospect maybe I shouldn’t have said that.
Talk to you later,
David
P.S. Been busy lately, being Flake Season and all. I haven’t had a lot of time to think or write. But I hope you will continue to check in on me from time to time to see what’s rattling around in my sometimes-vacant head. Now that I’ve said the main things about the business I’ve been thinking about for years, it might be time to expand a little. I’m not sure what that means exactly, but we’ll see.
David
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