The joys of buying a car
When was the last time you decided to purchase a new or secondhand car? Remember the joy of the whole exercise? I recently went through the drama and came out the other end more or less still sane.
It all started when my daughter rang and said her car had karked it, or was on the verge. My wife and I decided that the easiest and best solution all round was to let her take our oldish Holden Apollo and we purchase another newer car for ourselves. This would alleviate the problem of her having to go through the trauma of finding something decent, and an excuse for us to update our oldish but well kept vehicle.
Let the fun begin. We started by looking at the Trading Post, but there’s a small problem with this tactic. If you don’t grab the latest edition on the day it hits the newsagent, the good cars are all gone by around midday of that day. Nevertheless we perused a two-day old edition and went inspecting. We started near home then gradually drove in an ever increasing circles seeking in vain for a decent vehicle. You guessed it, the good ones were long gone.
The next step was the Internet. Let the computer do the walking. This tactic revealed many promising leads, but no indication of how long the vehicle had been listed for sale. The only thing for it was to physically go and inspect a few that looked in good condition, or as good as you can tell from a photo, and of course, the owner’s unbiased recommendation.
This exercise unearthed a surprising number of backyard dealers who priced their cars like mainstream dealers. The RACQ must have been doing a roaring trade, because, lo and behold, every single one of the backyarders’ vehicles had been inspected and passed as roadworthy. I’m no mechanic, but I know what a vehicle is like by taking it for a test run. A Dr Phil saying kept running through my head, “I was born at night, but it wasn’t last night”.
I’d had a gutful by this stage so it was either suicide or a car dealership. Surprisingly, most of the yards contained some really nice vehicles at what I presumed to be reasonable prices, but most were manual drive, and we wanted an automatic. Maybe that was a blessing in disguise, and saved me from buying something that looked okay but would be trouble down the track.
So we ended up at a large and well established dealership with a good name and prices to match. But by this stage I was prepared to pay that little bit more for the satisfaction of getting something that wouldn’t break down before we got it home. The saleman showed us a late model Barina in our price range and I took it for a run. It performed well as you would expect of a car with only 38,000 on the clock. So, small mileage coupled with a reputable dealer clinched the sale. Except for one more hurdle.
We’d agreed on a purchase price of $12,500. The salesman ushered us into his office and began writing down some figures:
Purchase price $12,500 | Dealer delivery charges $1,160 | Vehicle inspection $312 | Stamp duty $135 | Total $14,107
On seeing these figures my wife and I immediately rose from our chairs and headed for the door. The salesman yelled out, “Hold on!” As we returned to our chairs he said, ‘If I can make those bottom three sets of figures disappear, will you buy the car?” I said, “Yes”. He went and spoke with another chap and they both returned. The new chap, the used car manager, said, “We can waive those figures, but can you find an extra $117 on top of the purchase price of $12,500 so we can keep our doors open?” I said, “Yes mate, I wouldn’t like you to have to shut up shop because of a lousy $117″.
I believe this is common practice among car dealerships, it makes the buyer believe he’s put one over on the dealer, and also elevates the dealer into “top bloke” status. Of course, there would probably be people who’d pay the extra without a quibble, thereby handing the dealer an even more tidier profit.
The Barina has performed admirably so far, touch wood.
