If there is one thing that Americans have in common, aside from obesity and our desire to think that we are better than the rest of the world, it's that we love buying new things. We especially love buying new things that we don't need or can't afford, hence the booming coupon
and debt reduction industries. (I'm not really certain that either of these are really booming and/or industries but it sounds good and makes what little research I didn't perform seem plausible.)
Buying and trading goods has been around for as long as people could effectively communicate to one another the need for something one doesn't have. This system of commerce harkens back to ancient times when people would barter with clams or trade women for camels. The animals, not the cigarettes, although I have heard that in most jail facilities, it's still possible to trade almost anything for a pack or two of Camels (Menthols, because Ultra Lights are for queers). This includes women, or at least men who have a passing resemblence to something female like Richard Simmons. So, given our history as a trading peoples and our penchant for purchasing power, it still continues to amaze me how frustrating an experience buying something new can be.
I have recently had the incredible misfortune to be in two situations where the purchase of a new car was a necessary solution and, forming an opinion off these and past car dealer encounters, I am absolutely convinced that there is no such thing as a perfect car buying experience. The entire car sales industry is designed to confuse and intimidate rather than to try and provide any kind of value to the consumer. Regardless of which dealer you choose to do your shopping at, every single salesman that you encounter is a nearly identical clone of every other salesman before him. I wouldn't be surprised if he had a diploma hanging in his cubicle touting the fact that he graduated from Car Salesman College where, apparently, they only have one course that is based off of one term paper that was written by the first annoying guy who ever successfully sold a car. Not that any of them actually graduated college -- no person in their right mind grows up wanting to be a car salesman. They all fight for a cutthroat commission and instead of being honest and nice to you, they opt to innundate you with fast talk and confusing doublespeak. But don't worry, they're never the bad guy. It's always their "invisible" manager's fault. Everytime you make an offer or question something, they go into a little room with no windows and confer. At least they tell you that you're conferring. In truth, they're probably in there laughing at you while snorting cocaine off the leg of a dead hooker.
Even if you manage to be pretty decent at negotiations and manage to get them down to reasonable price, they still try and nickel and dime you for everything they can and refuse to let you leave unless you decide to take the deal. After you've either succumbed to the pressure or found a sucker for a salesman, you probably wind up buying a car that you're pretty happy about.. until they take you into the finance office. Forget everything you thought you just negotiated because it's all out the window. The finance people, whom I believe were sent from hell back to Earth because they screwed the devil over on a deal, take making you feel like shit to a whole new level. Aside from feeling like signing your life away as you pour through approximately nine million trees worth of contracts, they begin pushing all kinds of additional options at you which the salesman thoughtfully neglected to mention. And you thought you were done with the deal, huh? Regardless of what you decide to take or sign away, it's almost a guarantee that you will feel wholly unsure of yourself once you leave the dealership. Instead of feeling great about your new car purchase, you feel like you just got punched in the head while someone stole your wallet, your kidney, and then force-fed you someone else's vomit, which isn't bad if you're into that sort of thing.
Of course, retail frustrations are far from limited to just car dealerships. I walked into Radio Shack the other day in search of an audio RCA cable. And while I do realize that Radio Shack isn't the bastion of technological knowledge, it's something that can be convenient to the person who knows precisely what they want. Upon entering, I tried to ignore the I-couldn't-make-it-in-IT-so-I-took-this-job geek behind the counter and continued on my way to the section containing the audio cables. The geek, of course, followed me and began to pester me by asking if there was anything he could help me with, I made the mistake of opening up dialogue with him. The conversation went a little something like this:
Clerk: Sir, is there anything that I can help you find?
Me: Yes, I'm just looking for an RCA cable.
Clerk: Excellent. We have a lot of those. Here, try this "Super Monster Gold Whammo Blammo Certified Audio Cable." It should do everything you need.
Me: Yeah, but it's $30. I just want a generic RCA cable.
Clerk: Oh no, you don't want generic! You want this one. You see the gold tips at the end? Those help extend audio quality by 20 feet!
Me: How can it possibly do that? This cable is only six foot?
Clerk: Because it's gold!
At this point, it was just about all I could do to not choke him with the very cable he was trying to sell me and then toss his limp body into the wall display containing shitty cell phone accessories and cheap remote controlled cars. Besides, it turns out that I already had an RCA cable at home. Maybe I'm just a closet masochist.
All of this attention on poor retail experiences has a slight upside to it, however. I have a newfound appreciation for those times when things are as simple as they should be. Take food shopping at the grocery store for example. When you enter, you're pretty much left to explore the aisles on your own, taking as much time as you need to make your own decisions. As you're checking out, the clerk doesn't try and haggle with you because you opted to buy generic fishsticks instead of a more expensive name brand. They don't try and offer you an extended warranty on the milk you just purchased. Sure, they might judge you silently because you decided to only purchase a bottle of KY, a pack of condoms, and some bananas but, really, if you can live with yourself, you're no worse off.
For a society that is based around the buying and selling of goods to survive, these examples are but a few of the many horrid experiences that await consumers. The fact that we have been unable (or unwilling) to streamline this process is amazing in itself but I suppose that as long as there are unskilled high school dropouts looking for work, there will always be a market for bitter and pushy salespeople looking to make commission off cramming the latest unnesessary doo-dad down your throat. And that's the benefit of buying new.
Buying and trading goods has been around for as long as people could effectively communicate to one another the need for something one doesn't have. This system of commerce harkens back to ancient times when people would barter with clams or trade women for camels. The animals, not the cigarettes, although I have heard that in most jail facilities, it's still possible to trade almost anything for a pack or two of Camels (Menthols, because Ultra Lights are for queers). This includes women, or at least men who have a passing resemblence to something female like Richard Simmons. So, given our history as a trading peoples and our penchant for purchasing power, it still continues to amaze me how frustrating an experience buying something new can be.
I have recently had the incredible misfortune to be in two situations where the purchase of a new car was a necessary solution and, forming an opinion off these and past car dealer encounters, I am absolutely convinced that there is no such thing as a perfect car buying experience. The entire car sales industry is designed to confuse and intimidate rather than to try and provide any kind of value to the consumer. Regardless of which dealer you choose to do your shopping at, every single salesman that you encounter is a nearly identical clone of every other salesman before him. I wouldn't be surprised if he had a diploma hanging in his cubicle touting the fact that he graduated from Car Salesman College where, apparently, they only have one course that is based off of one term paper that was written by the first annoying guy who ever successfully sold a car. Not that any of them actually graduated college -- no person in their right mind grows up wanting to be a car salesman. They all fight for a cutthroat commission and instead of being honest and nice to you, they opt to innundate you with fast talk and confusing doublespeak. But don't worry, they're never the bad guy. It's always their "invisible" manager's fault. Everytime you make an offer or question something, they go into a little room with no windows and confer. At least they tell you that you're conferring. In truth, they're probably in there laughing at you while snorting cocaine off the leg of a dead hooker.
Even if you manage to be pretty decent at negotiations and manage to get them down to reasonable price, they still try and nickel and dime you for everything they can and refuse to let you leave unless you decide to take the deal. After you've either succumbed to the pressure or found a sucker for a salesman, you probably wind up buying a car that you're pretty happy about.. until they take you into the finance office. Forget everything you thought you just negotiated because it's all out the window. The finance people, whom I believe were sent from hell back to Earth because they screwed the devil over on a deal, take making you feel like shit to a whole new level. Aside from feeling like signing your life away as you pour through approximately nine million trees worth of contracts, they begin pushing all kinds of additional options at you which the salesman thoughtfully neglected to mention. And you thought you were done with the deal, huh? Regardless of what you decide to take or sign away, it's almost a guarantee that you will feel wholly unsure of yourself once you leave the dealership. Instead of feeling great about your new car purchase, you feel like you just got punched in the head while someone stole your wallet, your kidney, and then force-fed you someone else's vomit, which isn't bad if you're into that sort of thing.
Of course, retail frustrations are far from limited to just car dealerships. I walked into Radio Shack the other day in search of an audio RCA cable. And while I do realize that Radio Shack isn't the bastion of technological knowledge, it's something that can be convenient to the person who knows precisely what they want. Upon entering, I tried to ignore the I-couldn't-make-it-in-IT-so-I-took-this-job geek behind the counter and continued on my way to the section containing the audio cables. The geek, of course, followed me and began to pester me by asking if there was anything he could help me with, I made the mistake of opening up dialogue with him. The conversation went a little something like this:
Clerk: Sir, is there anything that I can help you find?
Me: Yes, I'm just looking for an RCA cable.
Clerk: Excellent. We have a lot of those. Here, try this "Super Monster Gold Whammo Blammo Certified Audio Cable." It should do everything you need.
Me: Yeah, but it's $30. I just want a generic RCA cable.
Clerk: Oh no, you don't want generic! You want this one. You see the gold tips at the end? Those help extend audio quality by 20 feet!
Me: How can it possibly do that? This cable is only six foot?
Clerk: Because it's gold!
At this point, it was just about all I could do to not choke him with the very cable he was trying to sell me and then toss his limp body into the wall display containing shitty cell phone accessories and cheap remote controlled cars. Besides, it turns out that I already had an RCA cable at home. Maybe I'm just a closet masochist.
All of this attention on poor retail experiences has a slight upside to it, however. I have a newfound appreciation for those times when things are as simple as they should be. Take food shopping at the grocery store for example. When you enter, you're pretty much left to explore the aisles on your own, taking as much time as you need to make your own decisions. As you're checking out, the clerk doesn't try and haggle with you because you opted to buy generic fishsticks instead of a more expensive name brand. They don't try and offer you an extended warranty on the milk you just purchased. Sure, they might judge you silently because you decided to only purchase a bottle of KY, a pack of condoms, and some bananas but, really, if you can live with yourself, you're no worse off.
For a society that is based around the buying and selling of goods to survive, these examples are but a few of the many horrid experiences that await consumers. The fact that we have been unable (or unwilling) to streamline this process is amazing in itself but I suppose that as long as there are unskilled high school dropouts looking for work, there will always be a market for bitter and pushy salespeople looking to make commission off cramming the latest unnesessary doo-dad down your throat. And that's the benefit of buying new.