Crusin' The Net

I was cruising the net today. I googled car salesman blogs. I’ve always wondered if anyone out there writes a blog like mine. I sometimes run into sites that cull car-related topics off the net and present them in a humorous fashion, but I can’t find anyone who writes an all-original, balls-out pro car salesman blog like mine. In that respect, I am the only one. Nnumero uno. I’m like Superman sitting on top of the Empire State Building, hands on my hips, my cape flapping in the breeze.

David Teves: Defender of the Car Man.

What I did find on Google are sites whose primary purpose appears to be to unravel our “secrets” and thwart our right to make a living. “What really goes on when the salesman goes to the sales managers office?” one blog asks, as if it were Voodoo.

In their minds when we complete the write-up and leave to present their ridiculous offer to the desk, we are going to a dark place inhabited by Satin himself. There, in the formerly polluted fire and brimstone office now fresh and clean since anti-smoking laws went into effect, the red-face, horned sales manager and the salesmen conjure up a scheme to deprive the customer of their children’s inheritance. It’s a nice thing to think about gross-wise, but it can’t be realistically put into action.

The Others give us much more credit than we deserve. Selling a car is not brain surgery. The deskmen are not Harvard MBA’s trained in the black arts of screwing people. Most deals entail the desk man just trying to figure out a way to sell a car to a guy who’s a flake and is ten grand upside down in his ’04 Suburban trade and still make a little money for the house.

Sure we will take a pass at making some money. After all, we are car salesman. It’s in our genes. But if the attempt fails, Plan B is to just make a deal, and in this market that means any deal we can.

So why is all this Internet energy aimed at us, when furniture salesmen, window salesmen, and real estate assholes (strike that, I meant to say professionals) get a free ride? I sure as hell wish I knew.

So I have a dilemma. Since I’m the only one defending us, the lone voice in the desert so to speak, what am I to do? Does it mean I can never stop writing this blog? To do so would be to give into the Dark Side. But the question is how long can I continue to do this shit? I’m a decent writer, but let’s face it; I’m not that good! And who will take my place when I’m gone?

I have a site meter that tells me who’s logging on to the blog. So be forewarned. Don’t tell me, “Gee, David, I’m really enjoying the blog,” when you know and I know you haven’t logged on in the last three months. If you’ve overdosed on it, I understand. I get overdosed on occasion. I start to think that I’ve got a serious mental disorder, a compulsive condition that causes me to write and write and write—about bullshit.

It’s also interesting to discover how people find the blog. There are apparently a lot of people out there who hate Corvettes (and rightly so). When they google “hate corvette” they stumble upon me. I wrote an entry called “The Popeye Syndrome”. Don’t ask me what it was about because I don’t remember, but apparently there is a real medical condition by the same name. Think of it. Some poor suffering fool is trying to find information to help a loved one and they stumble upon me!

Apparently there is something on the net about a person getting buried in a car. I mean really buried in a car. Like in a grave. Dead. But when the unfortunate goof out there googles being buried, they get my entry about people being upside down in their trades.

Life can be difficult if your one of The Others. And don’t we all enjoy that!


Talk to later,


David