Buying Cars Ain’t Easy: Selling car’s may be tough …. But,

By Charles ODonnell

This entertaining book is a collection of personal stories and observations experienced by the author over the past 60 years, from working as a part-time car salesman during college to his personal purchases of more than 50 cars.

The content helps the reader better understand the techniques used by car dealers to encourage you to buy, and what you should look for in a test drive. He explains trade-in values, and his own recent experience of buying a used car, sight unseen over the internet. This collection includes humorous anecdote’s, industry criticisms, and a healthy dose of sarcasm, plus examples of auto dealerships that went the extra mile, and conversely, some that treated their customers with disdain.

As a retired C.E.O., Charles adds his own executive perspective on customer service and brand loyalty, using real-life examples of why so many sales and service people seem to do such a poor job at what should be an easy and pleasurable experience. The book includes his reflections on ineffective T.V. commercials and poor Auto show marketing decisions.

Auto enthusiasts will thoroughly enjoy this book!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9781669875512

Charles ODonnell

Charles O’Donnell is a retired executive, a certified project manager, a Toastmaster DTM, and former CEO. He is revered for being articulate, innovative, detail-oriented, and someone who “can get things done”. He has worked for two airlines, a city transit agency, a major Seaport, a multi-state retailer, a billion-dollar grocery wholesaler, and the State of Washington. He developed one of the first college-accredited Grocery Management courses in 1980 and was CEO for a regional retailer from 1985 to 1995. He then managed one of the largest distribution centers in the U.S. (1.5 million sq. ft) and went on to manage Washington State’s liquor distribution center in 2011 before retiring. He has authored several books on a wide variety of subjects. He loves to travel and has visited over 50 countries. In his spare time, he enjoys reading, boating, landscaping, restoring old cars, and genealogy. He has been married for over 55 years and has three grown children. He and his wife now live near Seattle

Book preview

my brother

Jerry O’Donnell

The consummate car guy.

In Memory of the late

Earl Coverston

and

Lee Harrel

Two of the best car Salespeople ever

Copyright © 2023 by Charles ODonnell.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 04/29/2023

Xlibris

844-714-8691

www.Xlibris.com

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Preface

You would think that with thousands of car dealerships, staffed by hundreds of thousands of sales people, buying a car would be one of the easiest tasks to accomplish. Unfortunately, in my experience, this is not only not the case, but despite national exposure via the internet, dealership responsiveness to customers overall, and to customer internet inquiries, the buying experience has gotten worse, not better.

I have owned over fifty cars in my lifetime, and perhaps a few more are still on the horizon, but buying them has been a hassle. In many cases, I did not buy a specific car because the sales people were ill-mannered, unresponsive, uninformed, and in some cases, downright stupid. It seems anybody can get a job selling cars, but few succeed.

You might even be the type to tell me that if I am so smart, why don’t I try it myself? Well, in fact, I did try it myself.

I took a part-time sales job at a Dodge dealership for two years while attending college, raising my family, and attending U.S. Air Force Reserve training meetings every 4th weekend. Oh, and did I mention that I was also working full-time on the night shift at a manufacturing plant, all at the same time?

To suggest I was an over-achiever is a stretch, but I was not afraid of hard work, and I knew if I could generate enough extra money, I could buy a new house, new furniture, and perhaps buy a few more cars as well.

This book documents not only my own experiences trying to sell cars, but also covers my personal experiences of trying to buy cars. Along the way, I have met some of the best people in the car business, and unfortunately, some of the absolute worst. This odyssey captures both the humorous, and the ridiculous. If you like cars, you will thoroughly enjoy this book.

CONTENTS

Preface

Introduction

Chapter 1     Where it all started……

Chapter 2     Buying my first brand new car

SELLING CARS

Chapter 3     Learning to sell cars

Chapter 4     Selling cars ain’t easy…

Chapter 5     My first sale:

Chapter 6     Wrong answers

Chapter 7     The Seven Sales Techniques

Chapter 8     Poor Service: The Loyalty killer

Chapter 9     Do car shows sell cars?

BUYING CARS

Chapter 10   Sales Managers save the day

Chapter 11   What is your car really worth?

Chapter 12   Are new car discounts a scam?

Chapter 13   The Test Drive

Chapter 14   The professional closer

Chapter 15   Using the Internet

Chapter 16   Dealership Internet Reviews

Chapter 17   The car business

Chapter 18   The Final Chapter: My last car?

Cars I have owned

Introduction

In 1947, I was just two years old. My parents, who were essentially newlyweds, did not own a car, so my grandfather’s 1939 Ford Standard Coupe became the family car when it was available. My mother and father both worked, so they both took the bus to work in those early years.

My maternal grandfather was semi-retired and he would babysit me when he was available. He would put me in the car, sit me down next to him, and I would delight in inching forward on the tan mohair seat, and kicking the floor shift lever out of high gear. My grandfather did not think this was funny, and when I continued, he would stand me up on the front seat next to him, and he would occasionally stick his arm out to keep me from falling forward into the dashboard.

There were no seat belts in 1947, and no car seats that I can recall, either. You just learned to stick your feet out and brace yourself against the seat back and take in the marvels of how my grandfather steered, braked, accelerated, and shifted, all while taking in the sights, and carrying on a conversation with me.

In the standing position, I could now see out, and as each car passed us on the road, my grandfather would quiz me on what kind of car it was. If they were coming toward us, I had to recognize the grille. If they were passing us, I had to recognize the taillights. I could not read yet, but I knew that only Ford and Nash had 4 letters and one of the longest names was Studebaker.

By the time I was three, I was a walking, talking encyclopedia of car names, many of which have long since faded away. Some of the brands were pre-war cars like; Willy’s, LaSalle, Huppmobile, Graham, Pierce-Arrow, and many more.

Another interesting piece of learning was listening to the engine rev-up between shifts. As I grew older, I would tell my grandfather to shift when I heard that certain whine and roar that typified the peak rhythm of the engine and transmission.

Sometimes my grandfather would purposely not shift to see if I could tell the difference, and of course I would politely say shift grandpa, and he would intentionally ignore me, revving the engine even higher till I yelled loudly Shift Grandpa, a second time. He would thank me for reminding him, and he would smile even though this was a pre-planned act, not an oversight.

At the age of 3½, my grandfather and my mother decided to visit relatives in California. My father remained behind to work, but the three of us took off from New Jersey and drove that old ’39 Ford across the country for 14 days, stopping at every roadside attraction, every National Park, and almost every souvenir stand that we could find. We drove that old Ford through Yellowstone, across the desert, through the Cathedral Redwood tree, and along the California beaches, swerving in and out of the waves. It was a marvelous 7,000 mile round-trip and one that taxed my car knowledge to the limits.

In any case, my grandfather loved cars, and so I credit him with my obsession with cars as well. I should point out that in 1951, my grandfather, who was a dyed-in-the-wool Ford fan, attempted to buy a brand-new Ford, but an un-co-operative salesman so annoyed him, that he drove down the street and bought a brand-new 1951 Chevrolet deluxe 4 door on impulse. He promptly paid cash and took it to the Ford dealership to reinforce his sincerity, and to embarrass the Ford salesman for treating him so poorly.

I did not know it at the time, but this must have been a preview of what I would encounter over the next 60 years of car buying.

Enough about my childhood, to see what I mean, Read on.

Chapter One

Where it all started……

I b1ought my first used car when I was 15-1/2. It cost $300.00. It was a very nice dark green 1951 Ford Victoria flathead V8 with an automatic transmission. Within weeks, I was customizing (and ruining) a perfectly good car. I was involved in an auto accident a year later, and the car was totaled. This began a car ownership odyssey that resulted in me fixing cars, racing cars, buying cars, selling cars, and owning a wide variety of cars that most people would simply shake their head at.

2.jpg

My first real car – 1951 Ford Victoria

There were a lot of firsts in this car, but not what you think.

• First car I learned to actually drive

• First time I drove a girl home from school.

• First speeding ticket, (and the second and third)

• First time I ran a red light & Stop sign in the same trip,

• First serious car accident

In addition to my first drivable car, I had several project cars; a 1938 Fiat Topolino coupe, a 1914 Ford Model T roadster, a 1949 Crosley Station wagon, a 1931 Ford Model A coupe, and a rescued ’49 Cadillac V8 engine with Hydramatic transmission.

These projects involved lots of mechanical repairs, body work, and a never-ending search for parts from junkyards. They also provided occasional cash, as friends would see more value than I did, and offer to buy all or parts of each project. Since I had the Spare Cadillac engine and transmission, it replaced the Model T’s original engine and transmission, which I was able to sell for a nice profit.

Another guy wanted the Crosley engine and transmission for a quarter midget project, so I sold it, kept the seats, and sold the remainder of the car to another guy. The seats were perfect for a future race car project.

The Fiat body was in big demand by Drag racers, so when someone offered me a price I could not refuse, it too was sold. These transactions enabled me to buy other projects and served to develop my early negotiation and selling skills.

When I wrecked my 1951 Ford in the midst of these transactions, I bought my wrecked car back from the insurance company, pulled the engine, transmission and rear axle, and promptly installed them in my Model A coupe. I junked the remaining car body and used these monies to upgrade my ever-growing garage full of projects. My parents’ two cars were relegated to the driveway, so that I would have room for these multiple projects.

Next came a 1957 DeSoto Adventurer with factory dual four-barrel carburetors on its monstrous Hemi V8 engine. The engine was more valuable than the car, and I sold it to buy another guy’s project; a 1949 Oldsmobile 76 coupe with a professionally modified V8 engine and Hydramatic transmission replacing the original 6 cylinder / stick shift transmission. This became my daily driver to high school despite my converting it to an all-out D/Gas race car.

Finally, my father had had enough. When he was forced to park his own car, two houses away, due to all my projects now over-flowing into the remaining driveway space. He gave me the final word; "Get down to one drivable car, like everyone else", or he would "call the junkman to come get everything not nailed down".

Besides my Model A, my 1957 DeSoto, a 1960 Desoto, a non-running 1947 Studebaker, and my 1949 Oldsmobile, I had spare parts from engines to fenders, filling up any remaining garage space plus a 1949 Plymouth 3-window Business coupe stored off-site.

This was a lot easier said, than done, so I rented a garage from an elderly lady who lived near two of my friends and moved anything I couldn’t sell to that location. Only my 1960 DeSoto was worth enough to retain a spot in the family driveway.

In the meantime, I was now 18, and despite my obsession with cars, I was also dating and the parents of these girls did not want their daughters climbing into my 1949 race car, or anything that resembled a project car that they perceived as unsafe.

I eventually convinced my parents that in view of all the sacrifices I had made relative to my car projects, it was time I be permitted to buy a