New car shopping with your wife can be an interesting experience.
I am 82 years old and I have probably bought fewer cars than the average 30-something. In other words, I drive a car until it is on its death throes. If you don’t believe me, I still drive the 1997 Ford Victoria which I bought new. But it is a peach of a car and will probably outlast me.
But, in late 1975, my old Dodge was dying fast. We also owned an old Chevrolet which was dying even faster.
My wife, Carolyn, seemed to like the new Ford Granada and she wanted one.
Buying two cars was out of the question but, using absolute and perfect logic, Carolyn came up with a solution. I could drive the old Dodge to work, about 10 miles each way and, if it died on me, it died. On the other hand, she could drive the new car to the grocery store, about three blocks away.
I won’t go into the gory details, I reckon you can figure out who won.
Anyway, the decision to buy the new Ford was made so, on one fine morning, Carolyn and I went car shopping.
We stopped at a Ford dealer in Raleigh and we saw a car we liked. There was no price sticker on it.
When the salesman approached me, I said, “How much is this one?”
The salesman, being a clever man, said, “How much can you afford?”
I said, “You don’t understand. How much does the thing cost?”
“Well, how much can you afford?”
Being of a sweet and sensitive nature, I said, “Goodbye.”
Carolyn and I started driving up Capital Boulevard, where most of the Raleigh car dealerships are.
I heard, “Pull in there.”
“But that’s a Mercury dealership and they cost more.”
After the “do it” stare, I heard, “I want to look.”
I turned around and pulled in.
We saw a tan Mercury Monarch and Carolyn loved it. The next words I heard were, “I love that car and I want to buy it.”
Note: 1975 car prices were a bit lower than today.
I said, “Carolyn, the sticker is $5,400. We can probably get it for less than that but it’s still more than I want to pay.”
After a short discussion, we found a salesman. In other words, I lost again.
While we walking toward the office, I whispered, “Just do me one favor. Be quiet.”
I looked across the desk and said, “What kind of a price can you give us?”
The salesman started giving me that “Golly, gee, I’m sorry look.”
What was the next thing I heard? Let me tell you. “I want that car! I love that car and I want it!”
The salesman smiled and said, “I’m sorry, sir, my manager won’t let me sell that car for less than $5,400.”
I won’t bore you with any more detail.
And you guessed right. I drove off in a brand new 1976 $5,400 Mercury Monarch.
By the way, I nursed that old Dodge along for better than three more years.
Read more family stories in The Forties & The Fifties.
