I was walking through one of my favorite stores yesterday when I was assaulted (not really, but come on) by a kiosk sales guy. He didn’t sell kiosks. He had a kiosk setup inside my store for his own company. It’s like he pays a lease fee for that floor space for the afternoon or whatever. Anyway, he asks if I’d be interested in hearing about the brand new bmw model – whatever the hell it was. I’m sure it had an X or an L in there somewhere. You know, something fast.
“Sir, are you interested in hearing about the new bee em double you ex el ex seven el ex ex seven el?” he says eloquently.
To which I reply, “No.”
“But sir,” he pleads, “you can register to win one!”
I stopped. “Oooh.” Now there’s a thought! I could win one! “So I could win one?”
He replies, “Yeah. So now you’re interested, aren’t you?”
I say, “No. Not really. But the thought did occur to me that if I were to win one, I could sell it and buy two brand new, fully stocked Jeep Wranglers.”
The smile dropped off his face. “Wranglers? Sir?”
I was smiling widely at this point. “Yeah! Awesome idea, huh?” I said, slapping the padded shoulder of his blazer. He didn’t like that much.
“But this is a –” he started.
“Yeah, a bmw, I heard all that. Why would I want a bmw when I have a Jeep Wrangler sitting out there? I can’t take the top off a bmw. I can’t remove the doors and windows from a bmw. I can’t have girls standing up in the backseat of a bmw, shouting and waving and flirting with people on the highway, can I?”
Ask Katy 80, who claims her Wrangler is better than mine. (Whatever. It’s one year newer, and has a lot more scratches on it.) Even she knows the amount of attention you get in a TJ is a lot more desirable than in a luxury sedan. And it’s good attention, too. Not a bunch of pissed off people flipping you off. In a TJ, people in other TJs wave at you. It’s called a Jeep wave. And people like me like attention. Anyway, I seem to have gone off on a tangent.
The point is that these sales people think that just because they’re selling something that costs twice (or thrice) as much as what I drive that that automatically means I want one. Uh, no, I drive exactly what I want to be driving. I might not be rich, I mean, I only make a low, entry-level six figures writing for this site and playing in a struggling band, but I make enough to drive whatever I want. And I am. And anyone who’s read this site for long enough knows how I feel about bmws and mercedeses anyway. Thanks, I’ll stick to my Wrangler.