Mr. Toothy, the Clown Car and an Angry Gorilla

With gas prices skyrocketing, families are trying to cope.

A few years ago, we went down to one car by choice and my husband takes the bus back and forth to work. Now, we’re exploring whether it’s feasible to trade our car down to something newer, with better gas mileage. We made an investigative trip to #1 Cochran last weekend, but ended up feeling like #2.

We decided to bring all three children with us because we needed to see whether certain cars could fit all five of us inside. Kind of like in those old cartoons where they try to fit too many clowns into a Volkswagen, except our clowns were yelling at each other.

We heard the inevitable complaints from our daughter about her brothers smelling bad, and the little guy’s frustration at the fact that “there are elbows everywhere!” Add in the fact that it was 95 degrees last weekend, so the cars were very hot inside, and I’m sure it was some kind of side show. A very tan salesman with way-too-white teeth approached.

As my husband and the salesman talked about getting our car appraised, I moved the family inside to the air conditioning. Part of me wanted out of the sun, but part of me was just terrified of that salesman. His teeth reminded me of those toys from the '50s that you wind up and then they clatter across the table by themselves. He looked like an ex-Marine, a right tough old sausage. Old Marines never die, you know - they just march on.

I sat with the three kids at a table. From my purse, I pulled three pads of sticky-notes and some rollerball pens I carry for just such occasions. (You’d be surprised at the random stuff we moms can produce from the depths of a purse when we have to: Jack Sparrow action figure, wet wipes, Monopoly money, plastic pinching lobster claw…)

My daughter rolled her eyes, rejected pen and paper and volunteered to sit with my husband and the scary salesman on the other side of the room. The 7-year-old drew pictures of ducks, while the 14-year-old, seeing a poster with the CarFax Mascot, the “CarFox” on it, proceeded to draw a pretty clever cartoon of a big gorilla pounding the crap out of the CarFox.

Last week, we had some things taken from our car overnight when we forgot to lock it. We didn’t realize until we got to this car dealership that our car registration was missing. Noticing that our missing paperwork meant there was no way he could cut a deal with us that day, Mr. Toothy lowballed us on the value of our car to get us out the door and himself on to a more deal-ready customer. We were not amused.

Try explaining any of this to three kids who have just been getting in and out of certified pre-owned cars, thinking we’re going to drive home in something unfamiliar. The 7-year-old in particular was very sad when we left. Just for kicks, I left the sticky note with the cartoon gorilla stuck to their table.

We figured, car dealers are desperate right now, because so many people can’t afford to buy a car. What we didn’t count on was how many other families there might be, also trying to trade down and economize. Mr. Toothy proved that when he let us walk.

Then, there’s that genius marketing term, “pre-owned.” Is that anything like a pre-saturated Kleenex? I hope whoever thought that one up made a lot of money.

We sat quietly on the way home, brooding about other ways we might stretch our money a little further. We could get a smaller car, but I’m not sure the savings would be worth the aggravation of the bickering clowns in the back seat, pressed way too closely together. I’d have to pre-kick their back bumpers.

Once we’ve replaced our car registration, we’ll try other dealerships and other (hopefully, less scary) salesmen, to see whether there are any deals worth doing. I’ve started applying for some jobs, to try to earn us some more money. But in the meantime, we could do worse than the status quo.