I’m trying to sell a car.
I seem to own 2 cars. I only need 1.
So that means I need to sell. I am selling a blue car. It is a RAV 4. It has all the things cars should have; wheels, seats, windows, a steering wheel and an engine. It has everything on the carsales.com.au website. I didn’t have to untick any boxes. It is a proper RAV.
How hard can it be to sell a car?
Answer: ridiculously hard.
I would have imagined that if someone wanted a blue RAV 4 then they would just ring me and buy mine.
NO THEY DONT.
They email, text and ring and ask questions.
Stupid questions like where is the car located? I always reply politely but inside I want to scream READ THE BLOODY AD YOU COMPLETE MORON!
After polite banter and backward and forward messaging the next step is to make an appointment for the person to see the car.
FYI: to date all correspondence has been with FEMALES.
We make the appointment as per how this is meant to go. Well the way I think this is meant to go.
SHE BRINGS A MAN! WHY??? Does she not realise she has just lowered the IQ of women again in the eyes of the chest puffed, muscle clad bloke. SHE HAS GIVEN THIS NEANDERTHAL ALL THE POWER.
WELL NOT ON MY LAWN, TARZAN! IM THE BOSS ON MY LAWN AND IM FEMALE!
I FEEL CRANKED UP!
Can she not kick tyres with as much meaning as him?
The awkward silence follows as I watch and wait while Tarzan does his job. I have to endure the smell of testosterone and listen to the monkey grunts as HE inspects A CAR!
What is he even looking for? Evidence that it isn’t a car really? It is a boat in disguise?
I feel like yelling at him. IT IS JUST A CAR! STOP KICKING IT. IT DOESN’T WORK WHEN YOU KICK IT. YOU NEED THE KEY TO MAKE SOMETHING HAPPEN!
YOU WOULD THINK HE KNEW HE NEEDED A KEY BUT HE CLEARLY DIDN’T. I HAD TO OFFER IT TO HIM!
I give Tarzan the key. He accepts with a deep grunt of thanks. I suggest he takes it out on the highway for a REAL spin. He looks at me as though I am completely crazed.
He reverses and I feel relieved. At this point I would like him to steal the damn thing. Then at least it has gone. I can claim insurance. My horrors of car selling would be over.
Tarzan returns. He hands back the keys and grunts, “I’ll be in touch.’
WHY YOU, BIG FELLA? It’s the woman who is buying!!!
Im left. Standing on the lawn with the car neatly parked next to me. I think Tarzan feels superior to me and that was not how it was meant to play out. I was supposed to say something clever and witty and befriend Tarzan and his cheque book….
Back inside to the next potential buyer who is money haggling with her parents and keeping me up to date via email.
I read her latest email. The 8th one. She asks for more photos as she lives many hours away in the country.
I send more photos.
Email 9 arrives. Am I prepared to negotiate?
IT IS A CAR SALE AND YES LIKE ALL SALES I WILL BE EXPECTED TO NEGOTIATE. I reply politely with an, ‘Of course.’
Email 10 comes from the mother of the young girl.
She tells me the price is a little out of their range but she will discuss it with her HUSBAND when he gets in.
WELCOME BACK TARZAN MK2!!
Now this Tarzan is either a truckie or a farmer. I know that from information in emails 1-7.
I’m hoping for a farmer. A farmer who drives trucks and takes his sheep to market.
I want him to be a farmer because I have a plan.
I have offered to drive to meet him so he can TYRE KICK like Tarzan people enjoy doing. The MAN THING!
His wife has suggested I meet him at Dublin Market IF HE DECIDES we can buy the child her car.
My plan is to negotiate down again and get myself a cut up sheep or 2!!
I would be delighted to sell my car for some cash and large amount of lamb.
I wonder if Tarzan will come to the party and play nicely at the market?
Id like it if he did.
SOLD FOR A SHEEP YEP that’ll do just fine.