|Not my car|
So yesterday I bought a car. The process was lengthy but somewhat more fun than I thought it would be. The main reason for this is that I went with my dad. Yeah, BH completely bagged out of car negotiations. In his defense, I had pretty much decided which car I wanted, which color and besides checking some pricing, I had it all ready to go.
Off Dad and I went for a test drive. Our poor defenseless car guy was named Aurelio--for one moment, I thought he was Brazilian but in truth, he was just a really good sport. Dad and I joked our way through sport suspension testing, braking and rolling windows up and down (there is no multicultural moment so happy as moving from a bullet-proof car to a non-bullet-proof car). I hope those window motors are the best as they will have to survive the twins putting the windows up, putting the windows down, up down up down...
I have to say that buying a car in the US is much like buying a car in Brazil. Except that I get to choose between 300 colors and options instead of three colors and two options packages. And cars cost twice or three times as much in Brazil. I sold my three-year-old CRV for almost as much as a new one costs here.
I complained to Aurelio that the lady on the phone had said that the silver color was in stock but it was not. He said "that's not my department." Those are the phone people. Then my dad asked "how much does an oil change cost here at Acura?" and Aurelio said "I don't know. That is not my department." And then we asked what was the best deal on the car and he said "I don't know, let me get my manager." And I pointed to the embroidery on Aurelio's shirt and said "you are Acura. You are every department to a client." And Aurelio laughed.
After visiting the Hyundai dealer next door, we discovered that things get worse. We met another sales guy (sorry, did not catch his name, hope it was a good one) who told us he was a "Selection Specialist." After asking a few questions about cars and servicing, we got the same responses about not knowing service costs (the service department was 10 feet away from his desk). And so we asked what exactly was his role at Hyundai. And we found out that a "Selection Specialist" is only responsible for helping a client choose the right Hyundai model and then he hands off to the "Sales Specialist" or perhaps it is the "clean-out-your-wallet specialist". And so on.
So, I've decided that in the US, we all need titles. As you know, I have a garbologist who comes every Tuesday and picks up the garbage. And yesterday morning, I was visited by the arborist who told me all about ash borers and made me pity the deer last year which desperately chewed up half the rhododendrons even though they hate rhodos. Do not call him the tree guy. He is the arborist. And fair enough, he does have a forestry degree I noted on his online resume.
I need a title. BH tells me I am the Head of the Motor Pool. The pool is one at the moment. Head of the Motor Puddle. I am also COO of this household. Chief Entertainment Officer of small children. Hopefully I'll get a paying-job title soon. And then I can tell people who ask tough questions "that is not my department."