I’ve been boiling mad all weekend, “stewing,” as my mother says, so get ready.
Adam has been wanting a John Deere Gator for a few years. He heard from several people that the Polaris’ competing vehicle is better so, this Saturday, the three of us drove 40 minutes to go check it out. (Side note: one more
obnoxious awesome thing about living in the country: there are no direct roads to ANYWHERE. If I could drive straight there, it would be 15 miles, max.)
But I digress.
We arrived at the dealership and G$ was having the time of his toddler life. Who needs Toys R Us when there are ATVs, lawnmowers and dirtbikes galore? The only way I finally got him to calm down was to put him in one of the Gator knockoffs and
pray sit with him. Adam was speaking with a salesman and everything was going fine until another salesman walks up. Salesman #2 was a normal looking, mid-30s married guy who overheard Adam and I asking about what makes their product so much better than John Deere’s.
As I am sitting there, Salesman #2 says to Adam, “Well, I can tell you one difference right now. Levers and buttons. See, the JD version has all these levers and buttons to change from 4WD to (wtfeverwheeldrive). On ours, it’s just this one button and you’re done.”
Hang on kids, because this is where the shit hits the fan.
Then he says, “SO! When SHE (me) needs to change gears, it’s not so overwhelming. If SHE is out driving it by herself and gets lost, or stuck, and needs to change into 4WD, we just have the one button to make it simple. So she won’t get confused.”
Ladies, you know how every time you get cut off in traffic you end up having this conversation with yourself: “Umm, HELLO?! Hi? WTF?! Are you blind??? Did you not see me here? REALLY?!”
That’s what it was like. But with a lot more swear words.
Now, I realize that I do not have a penis. (Even with my dim wit, I know that much.) I am not your typical customer. I am not your target demographic, if you will. And, to be honest, you’re not entirely wrong about what you’re saying. Because Idontfuckingcareaboutyourstupidassmachine. But if I were going to drive your little toy here, you bet your ass I’d know how to drive it.
And the thing is…I do have ears. And I’m 100% sure I just heard you talk about me like I’m not sitting right in front of your face, and call me stupid while you’re at it. Do you WANT to make a sale today? You do? Oh, I’M SORRY, I must have been CONFUSED. We simple-minded womenfolk have that happen sometimes.
I’ve had people (car dealers) get this whackadoodle idea in their heads that they can somehow trick me or con me because I’m a girl. And that’s annoying. But never ever, not in my entire LIFE, have I ever had someone talk to me like I’m some clueless bimbo.
As you may have noticed, I was (and still am) quite riled up about this dumbass. Haven’t quite figured out what I’m going to do about it, but I am feeling like a letter to the owner might be in order. It’s on like Donkey Kong, mofos.