It Would Probably Be Easier Just to Steal One.

Since my car crapped out on my last week, I am in the market for a new one. So I, along with my reluctant boyfriend (reluctant to go car shopping, not to be my boyfriend) spent much of the weekend "shopping for a new car," by which I mean we were held at gunpoint by a car salesperson (we'll be politically correct here) while being forced to look at cars that were a) too expensive for me, b) not the kind that I wanted, or c) both.

We pulled into the lot and, upon entry, were immediately surrounded by an impenetrable shoulder-to-shoulder barrier of sales people, preventing our escape. Alas, I had forgotten my fake-smile piercing bullets at home. The remainder of my time at the dealership I had one-sided conversations with salespeople that have the listening skills of a lima bean:

Me: "I'm looking in the $10,000.00" price range."
Car Salesperson: "Great! I've got a beauty over here for just $36,000!"

Me: "I'm definitely looking to buy, not lease."
Car Salesperson: "We have a great special on new leases right now!"

Me: "I was thinking maybe a Jeep Wrangler?"
Car Salesperson: "We've got a beautiful 4-door Nissan Maxima right here that sounds perfect for you!"

Me: "I really like five-speed transmissions."
Car Salesperson: "We just received a new shipment of boats!"

Me: "Do you think you might be able to come down a little on the price of that one?"
Car Salesperson: "I will be happy to knock $5,000 off the list price, then add $7,000 back into the price in the form of upgrades and hidden fees!"

Me: "Okay, thanks for the help. At this time, I'm really just browsing to see what's out there. I'm on my way to meet someone so I'd better be going."
Car Salesperson: "Perfect! Let me go grab a lease form for that Maxima we talked about and I'll be right back! Don't try to leave, because I have set a deadly laser on you that will be activated if you walk more than two feet in any direction! And the dobermans will attack!"

Me: "Holy shit!"
Car salesperson: "Damn straight!"

We quickly pointed behind the salesperson and said "Look! Someone is trading in a mint condition, 2003 Jaguar!" When they whirled around, we jumped into my boyfriend's car and booked it out of there. And by booked it, I mean "drove six miles an hour out of there," since car lots are expressly designed to keep people in them as long as possible. The salespeople dove in front of the car, but we brazenly continued, driving over them left and right. They threw business cards, lease forms, balloons, and those special markers that they use to write on the windshields at us, but we pushed on. We left a swath of downed salespeople in our wake, but escaped with nary a signed lease.

Whew.