(I’m a female in my twenties. After having my car break down for the fourth time in the first year of owning it, I’m shopping for a replacement. I’ve done a great deal of research, and have narrowed it down to a few models. This is what happens at the first dealership I go to.)

Me: “Um, hello?”

Sales Guy: “Yeah?”

Me: “I’d like to look at that 626 you have in your lot.”

Sales Guy: “So go look at it.”

Me: “Okay, when I say look at it, I mean I’d like to test drive it.”

Sales Guy: *laughs* “I think that would be a waste of time.”

Me: “I beg your pardon? Why is that?”

Sales Guy: “Well, because you clearly aren’t going to buy a car.”

Me: “…Well, not from you, not from here, not anymore. Guess this explains why I’m the only customer in here. Bye.”

(Now this is what happens at the second dealership I go to.)

Enthusiastic Sales Guy: “Hi there! What can we find for you today?”

Me: “I’m looking for a used Legacy or Impreza. Do you have either of those models?”

Enthusiastic Sales Guy: “Oh! Hey, sorry, I don’t think we do… not used. Let me show you this new [completely different make and model], though!”

Me: “Ah, no, I’m sorry. I want a used car that’s affordable and has a proven consumer report record. I did a lot of homework on this, and I’m looking for a select few models. I have a list here.”

Enthusiastic Sales Guy: “Okay! Well, let’s go look around the used lot and see if anything there strikes your fancy.”

(We look through the lot, but none of the cars I want are on it. I let him know that I don’t want to waste his time if there’s nothing from my list available.)

Enthusiastic Sales Guy: “Well, are you sure? This car is very pretty.”

Me: “No, thanks. My last car was pretty. Didn’t keep it from being a lemon.”

Enthusiastic Sales Guy: “Well, hey, so what would it take to get you into a car today?”

Me: “Having a car I wanted to buy would be a good start.”

Enthusiastic Sales Guy: “But this car is so pretty!”

Me: “No. I’m not looking for pretty.”

Enthusiastic Sales Guy: “You should be!”

Me: “I’m leaving now.”

(It took two weeks, but I finally found a dealership that had what I wanted and didn’t talk down to me. My car has lasted me eight years with very few problems.)

(I am a dairy farmer and have just finished work early so I can go to town to buy my new ute (pickup truck). Because of the rush, I am still a bit on the smelly side, but clean.)

Me: “Hey, just wanting to look at a test drive of the new truck over there… the 2×4 diesel.”

Salesman: “Sorry, we don’t serve your kind here.”

Me: “Excuse me? What do you mean, ‘your kind?’”

Salesman: “Idiots like you that are just out for a joyride in a new car. Why don’t you get a job so you can afford to actually buy one?!”

Me: “Well, if that is your attitude, I can take my business elsewhere…”

(At this point, I leave the dealership, and head to another dealership across town where I test drove a new truck. SOLD, with my new wheels, I returned to the first dealer.)

Me: “Big mistake on your part, sir. Looks like you missed a sale.”

Salesman: *jaw drops*

(The next day, I called up the owner of the first dealership and reported the salesman’s behaviour. Looks like this was a common occurrence, and the salesman was fired pretty quickly. Now, due to business increases, I buy from the first dealer, but I get a pretty little discount on all sales. Looks like rudeness does pay off in the end, just not for the rude person!)

(My car is in for service at its dealership, and I am waiting by the service desk to sign the paperwork to get it back.)

Employee: “Oh! Oh! Oh! Is your name Bella?!”

Me: “What?”

Employee: “Bella! Like from Twilight! You know, Twilight, right? Your name matches!”

(Note: my full name is not printed on the paperwork, only my first initial and my last name. While my initials match Bella’s, this is, in fact, not my name.)

Me: “My name isn’t on the paper.”

Employee: “Have you ever been to Washington?”

Me: “I visited… once?”

Employee: “Oh-em-gee! Bella’s real! I met Bella! Is Edward as dreamy in real life?”

Me: “I… just… please let me sign for my car?”

Employee: “Aw.”

(There is a car sale going on at the dealership my sister’s boyfriend works at, and he promises my mom a good deal. My mother insists I come along so she can use my credit. Note: I work the graveyard shift, so I’m very very tired in the day.)

Me: *yawning*

Sister’s Boyfriend: “Have a seat, you two. I’ll be back in a sec.” *leaves*

(We wait a long time, but my sister’s boyfriend never comes back. Finally another salesman, an old man, approaches.)

Salesman: “Do you need any help?”

Mom: “Well, [sister's boyfriend's name] was helping us, but we don’t know where he went.”

Salesman: “I can help you.”

Mom: “Well…”

(My mom glances uncertainly at my sister’s boyfriend in the back. He sees her and comes out to speak to the salesman.)

Sister’s Boyfriend: *to the salesman* “Just show her the different types of cars and I’ll be right there.”

(The salesman shows my mom the cars, while I trail, yawning and doing my best not to fall asleep.)

Mom: “Yes we are using her—” *points to me* “—credit.”

Salesman: “What’s wrong with her? Is she retarded in the head?”

(I’ve been drowsy up to this point, but hearing him insult me instantly wakes me up.)

Me: “Excuse me?!”

Salesman: “How old are you, little girl?”

Me: “I’m 37, and I don’t appreciate your stupid assumptions. Mom, let’s go!”

(My mom finally agrees and tells the salesman to cancel everything. He does, very sourly. On the way out, my sister’s boyfriend stops us. My mom explains that she thought that he would give us a deal like he promised, not foist us off to someone else. My sister’s boyfriend turns to glare at the salesman, who’s chain-smoking in the back and glowering at us.)

Me: “I can’t believe he would say that! And [sister's boyfriend's name] was an idiot.”

(My sister broke up with her boyfriend soon after that. My mom got her car somewhere else.)

(My manager is a ridiculously good-looking man, but it makes him uncomfortable especially when the women at our car dealership fawn over him. One night, a young girl—no more than about 19—comes in to buy her first car. It’s customary that the manager comes out and introduces themselves, so while the girl and I are in the middle of our initial small-talk, he walks out and extends his hand for a handshake)

Manager: “Hi, welcome to [dealership]. [My name] will take great care of you.”

(The girl blushes the brightest shade of red I’ve ever seen and shakes his hand.)

Girl: *shyly* “Hi.”

(His job done, my manager turns to walk away, and the girl, forgetting I’m there, stares very hard at his rear as he leaves. She suddenly remembers I’m there, turns even redder, and looks at the ground.)

Girl: “I’m… so… sorry.”

Me: *laughs* “Don’t feel bad, hon. We get it all the time. If it makes you feel any better, all the women here have done the exact same thing at one time or another. I’m guilty of the same thing, trust me!”

(The customer seems to feel a little better, and she laughs with me. I stand up to go do some paperwork, and see my manager is sitting in the area. I decide to rib him a bit.)

Me: “Hey [manager], thanks for riling up my customers. The poor girl couldn’t stop staring after you when you walked away!”

Manager: “I know. I overheard your conversation.”

(My smile completely disappears.)

Me: “…How much did you hear?”

Manager: “All of it.”

(I couldn’t get out of there fast enough!)