posted 03-14-2002 01:51 AM
I always keep my trust in check when dealing with people who are trying to sell me something. Always. The guy trying to sell me a new scanner or CD player isn’t my friend, no matter how personable and friendly and likable he is, and no matter how much he reminds me of someone who might fit in well with my own circle of friends. If someone approaches me in a store asking if I need help, I generally instruct them to go away until I have specific questions they can answer. If this strikes you as a particularly harsh approach, then you can bloody well go and soak your head. OK, seriously. The guy at Circuit City, the woman on the phone asking if you want to upgrade to the Premier Select VIP Service, and the guy at the dealership asking if you want the clear-coat paint all have one thing in common: It’s their job to sell you stuff. It’s not their job to make sure you make the best financial decision or purchase the best product at the best price (though I’ve met many whose training and experience is grounded in the real world who were extremely helpful on both these points). It’s their job to sell you stuff. Period.
Often, the consumer finds that the seller is willing to approach the situation with a large degree of respect for the consumer’s buying savvy, his specific needs and desires, and his credit limit. I’m a Saturn owner, and the Spring Hill boys know how to deliver when it comes to customer relations, so I’m well aware of a salesperson’s ability to consider me an intellectual equal, and to strike an equal balance between doing his job and making sure I’m treated fairly.
But the initial relationship between seller and buyer is an adversarial one, particularly in cases where the buyer is in the process of coming to a decision. As Pattie points out, being totally honest could potentially cost the seller a commission, so creative editorial processes usually come into play which aren’t always in the consumer’s best interests. Hell, they have to feed their kids too, right? I won’t hold it against them, but I’m not about to let my guard down, either. And because of this immediate adversarial association, I place my trust in reserve until the marketer has said or done something to earn some degree of trust from me.
The Saturn guys did it by being honest with me right off the bat. There’s no haggling at a Saturn dealership; the price you see on the sticker is the price you’re gonna pay, and if you want to dicker about the cost, you can go somewhere else. The salesman told me this right off the bat. I appreciated it; it let me know their immediate stance on selling me a car. Their philosophy: Why waste time playing "Let’s Make A Deal" when both parties know exactly what they want and what they’re willing to do for it, and there’s a lot full of cars that could potentially fill everyone’s needs?
The seller showed me a list of cars, explaining to me what was in my price range and what the advantages and disadvantages of each car were. He also didn’t make any bones about what his needs were; it was plain that he wanted me to buy a car, and that he didn’t want me to do it somewhere else. But he was patient and answered all my questions, even the dumb ones that made it plain that I had never bought a car before. Those were the questions I held in reserve until I was sure he was being straight with me; I didn’t want to make my vulnerabilities vulnerable by revealing them.
In the end, I wound up with a car I like at a price I don’t mind paying. I’m glad, though, that I entered the situation with the trepidation I had, and that I continue to do so whenever making a big financial decision.
Now, if only I can choose the best graduate school for the massive amounts of loans I’ll undoubtedly be taking out . . .