Buying a Used Car: Ugh!

"The following is a true story. Only the names have been changed to protect the guilty." - Bon Scott

My wife and I got a text message on Saturday from our 22 year-old son, Nolan, asking if we'd meet him at a big car dealership in town. He'd recently moved out of our house and into an apartment with his girlfriend and her 7-year old son, and his two-door Honda Accord was no longer practical for family living.

He had his eye on a 2015 Chevy pick-up truck. On the surface it seemed like a good idea. It had four doors so there was plenty of room for the family, and a canopy over the bed for hauling groceries (and hopefully moving the rest of his stuff out of our house) during the long rainy season in Oregon.

The truck was being sold by a large Chevy dealership on the far side of town. After an hour's drive, we arrived to find our son standing next to the truck, chatting with the salesman, Larry. We introduced ourselves and began asking questions.

This is where the concept of personality types comes into play.

The Process of Buying a Used Car

Our son, Nolan, knows a lot about cars. He can hear a car drive by and without seeing it can tell you the make, model, year, and if it has after-market exhaust. I tease him that he could even tell you what color it is just by the sound, and discovered that in some cases he literally can ("That's a 5.3 liter V-8, which only came in black for that model year.")

What Nolan can't do, however, is negotiate.

The listed price on the truck was $18,000. Prior to driving to the dealership, I did some basic research. I looked up the truck's Blue Book value ($15,600 at the high end) and read its Carfax report (no accidents, one owner). This plays into my personality. I like to solve problems armed with data and knowledge.

Nolan went for a test drive and when he came back, we went inside and sat in Larry's cubicle to begin the negotiation.

To start, I asked Larry why they were selling the truck for $18,000 when the high Blue Book value was $2400 less than that. Larry hemmed and hawed and in mock humility claimed he might be able to drop the price by $50 or maybe even $100 if the gods (sales manager) allowed it in their mercy. He heavily implied it was entirely out of his hands.

One of the things I noticed in my research was that the dealership had the truck for 87 days without it being sold. I asked why. Larry told a fishy story that although the original owner had brought the truck in about three months prior, the truck wasn't actually for sale until six days ago. He also claimed they originally listed it for $22,500 but had dropped the price to $18k (in six days — first red flag).

I asked if the truck had undergone any service while in their possession. Larry made the mistake of giving me a print-out from the service department showing the work done on the truck over the past 87 days.

My wife and I quickly honed in on one particular work order. The customer reported the transmission had been slipping when warm and had the truck towed to the dealership (another red flag). The work done included replacing internal parts (with used replacement parts, third red flag) and that metal shavings had been found in the transmission fluid pan (we're running out of red ink at this point).

When pressed, Larry confessed that the transmission work cost $8,250 (fifth red flag? We're losing count). I think he was trying to get sympathy out of us.

Remember when Larry said he might be able to drop the price by $50 or $100, but that his hands were tied beyond that?

I decided to test Larry's flexibility.

"If you will sell the truck for the high Blue Book value of $15,600, we will give hard consideration to buying this truck," I told him.

Larry's eyebrows went up. "$15,600?" he asked. I nodded. Larry wrote that down on a piece of paper and got up. He feigned heartbreak and gave a resigned, almost repentant sigh, "I'll see what I can do." He went into another room and began a phone call on his cell phone, presumably to god (the service manager).

Larry came back after a few minutes and began typing on his computer. "$15,600 and you'll buy the truck," he said rhetorically.

They'd accepted our offer without any counter-offer! (We've stopped counting red flags at this point.)

This is on a truck that they were hoping to sell for $18,000 after putting $8,250 worth of repair work into the transmission, and we dropped that price a further $2,400 without any counter-offer.

We'd lost track of all the red flags we'd seen so far. Our path was clear.

"We appreciate your time, Larry, but we're going to pass on this truck. We have too many concerns about the transmission and will continue our search elsewhere."

We rose out of our seats and the look of defeated resignation on Larry's face was probably the only honest expression we'd gotten out of him since we met him. He knew the truck was an overpriced lemon waiting to cost our son a lot of money.

We shook hands and went out to our car to leave. And this is where things got a bit surreal.

The Journey From Sales to Service

My wife and I got into our Honda Pilot and I pressed the start button. There was a loud pop from the engine compartment, the lights flashed on the dash, and then everything went dead.

We got out and opened the hood. There were wisps of smoke coming from the battery and a small amount of clear fluid was dripping onto the parking lot directly underneath.

I walked back into the dealership and was approached by Brandon, one of the other salesmen on the floor. He had been chatting up my wife and I while Nolan and Larry were out on the test drive. Gregarious and jovial, Brandon was much more of a talker than Larry. He'd fit right in spewing cheesy pick-up lines in a nightclub.

Brandon had the classic overt charm of a car salesman, what I call 'charming smarmy.'

(Larry's salesman shtick was the quiet "you can trust me, I'm an honorable family man" type.)

After telling Brandon what happened, he teased us that we had to buy a new car now. "It's ordained by the universe," he said jokingly. We walked back over to our car and showed him what happened.

Brandon teased us a bit more but said, "I'll make sure you're taken care of." He walked me all the way to the other side of the dealership campus to the service department and introduced me to Erik, the service manager.

The Problem Solvers

At many car dealerships, the difference in experience between the sales department and the service department can feel like completely different worlds.

By this point it was in the middle of the afternoon and the service department was trying to wrap up; closing time was less than an hour away. Unlike the salesmen Brandon and Larry, Erik was clearly a problem solver. He asked direct questions about what happened, what kind of car it was, and where the car was located.

Erik asked Brandon to take me to the parts department to ensure a battery was in stock that would fit our car (we drive a Honda and this was a Chevy dealership).

The parts guy was polite and thorough, asking for our VIN, and used his computer to quickly determine they had a battery in stock that would meet our needs. He even explained the two different types of battery available and let me choose which I'd prefer.

I let Erik know a new battery was available, and he directed two technicians to "get the pusher" and move our disabled car from the opposite end of the campus over to the service bays.

The technicians removed the old battery (one or more cells within the battery had exploded), cleaned out the spilled fluid, and installed a new one. I paid up with Erik and we were cleared to go.

Before we left, I went back into the sales area of the main building to thank Brian and even to say goodbye to Larry but both were nowhere to be found, perhaps on break licking their wounds or maybe upstairs being berated by the sales manager.

The Role of Personality

We drove home, remarking about the differences in personality between salesmen Larry and Brian, the data-oriented parts guy, and the problem solver Erik in the service department. In terms of the Core Values Index™, the world's most accurate and reliable psychometric assessment, some clear patterns emerged.

Nolan, our son, has a CVI profile of Merchant/Innovator. One of the hallmarks of Merchants is they only need about 30% of the available information before they are willing and eager to move forward. As far as Nolan was concerned, the truck had the V8 engine he preferred and a nice color. It had a comfortable interior and was quiet to drive. That was enough for him, and digging deep on the service history or hard haggling over potential reliability issues wasn't even on his radar.

Larry and Brian both are likely to have Merchant in their primary CVI slots, but in different ways. Merchants excel at non-verbal communication and picking up subtle cues in behavior. Merchants also are master manipulators, making them excel in sales roles.

Brian relies on his gregarious charm and quick wit to win new friends, while Larry uses subterfuge and the false portrayal that he's "the one you can trust, unlike the rest."

Erik likely is an Innovator. He was focused on solving the problem first and foremost, and based on the Innovator's altruistic nature, he didn't care that we drove another brand of car. The parts guy was likely a Banker primarily with Innovator as his secondary core value energy. His priority was to gather all the facts and information he could about the situation, rely on his wealth of knowledge and ability to get definitive answers, and then use that knowledge to solve the customer's problem.

How did my own personality play in all this? I am an Innovator/Banker, so my priority is to solve problems with well-researched answers. First came the research about the truck. There was no way I'd go into a situation like that unprepared. Second came the negotiation, which is a problem to be solved just like any other. I often spoke with Larry by phrasing things as questions (a classic Innovator method) and felt confident that I was the wisest and cleverest person at the table (whether I was or not, I at least felt that way).

In the end, the experience was a positive one. Nolan avoided buying a lemon for far more money than it was worth, our battery dying couldn't have happened at a better time and place, and my wife and I went away having even more evidence that the Core Values Index truly is a personality tool without peer.

Although this is a true story, the name of the dealership has not been specified and all names have been changed to protect each individual's identity.

Core Values Index™ and CVI™ are trademarks of Taylor Protocols, Inc.