Part III - We Make a Deal -October 25,
2000
On Tuesday morning we ride the
jitney cart down to our breakfast of muffins and grits (oh God, it's great to be
back in the South; if they'd only make grits with milk instead of water). Our
sales consultant, Brian, comes over to our table and we chat while we finish
eating. We then stroll to another golf cart in which Brian drives us out to the
display area. We've been up and talking about what to do since 4:00 A.M. We
walk back and forth between the two Carriage models we like discussing the pros
and cons of each. Do we prefer oak or white? Does the rear entertainment
center with the electric fireplace make any sense at all? Which side of the
trailer do we want the sofa and dinette on? How about the center kitchen? Does
the island in the kitchen so obstruct travel access that it would bust the
deal? Let's close the slides and look. Slowly we work toward consensus on our
needs and wants. Brian listens and watches as much as he provides input,
letting us work through our concerns. He knows he already has a sale; it's only
a matter of time. We've agreed we want to buy the Carriage LS 366. We haven't
spoken about price, yet. We take one more look at both units and head back to
Brian's cubbyhole office.\
Carriage LS 366 Floorplan
This is the hard part for me. I
don't object to talking about the money, but I hate the negotiating process. I
also know that there are dealer intangibles that affect the deal. Folks on
RV-Talk have assured me that Lazy Days stands behind its product, and we think
that's an important value. We've been impressed by the service department during
the time we've been here. That makes a difference now. Trading our old trailer
also makes the negotiating process difficult. I would prefer to trade our used
rig at wholesale value and negotiate the price of the new rig. They insist on
giving an "allowance" on our Westport fifth wheel that wildly exceeds our
expectations. I try to base my understanding of the deal
based on taking the MSRP, deducting the wholesale value of the old trailer, and
then figuring the "allowance" as a discount. We reject their first offer and go
to lunch in the Lazy Days cafeteria. I should know better than to eat spaghetti
and meatballs down here. I suppose there are some people of Italian extraction
somewhere nearby, but not in the Lazy Days kitchen. Brian comes over to our
table and joins us, but we don't talk about the deal until we return to his
office.
They have a new deal for us
that's two thousand dollars better. We chat and stall, but they've gone as far
as they seem willing to go. They agree to install our washer/dryer and our
electronic switching system at their expense. We'll pay for a new battery. Our
initial observations of minor repairs needed will be taken care of. We have a
deal. We've traded our Westport for the equivalent of a full Avion with a
thousand pounds more carrying capacity, nicer appointments, and a brand new
warrantee. Brian congratulates us on making a great deal; so does the sales
manager. I think we've made a fair deal and neither of us has been skinned.
Now it's all paperwork.
Brian takes us down the hall to
the bank. As we walk along, other salespeople congratulate us on our new
purchase? How did they find out so fast? There's some sort of jungle telegraph
operating here that we don't see even though the results are clear. The finance
section of Lazy Days looks and feels exact
ly
like a bank. The desks are stained a dark reddish walnutty sort of color. The
men and women behind the desks are dressed a little more formally. They have
razor cuts. We take the longest loan period we can get, fifteen years, knowing
we'll never wait that long to pay off the trailer. Irene adds the extended
warrantee, which, in Florida, is price controlled by the state. We have a
monthly payment we can easily live with even though we would pay nearly three
times the amount of the loan if we took the entire loan period to pay it off.
Off to the insurance desk where a very perfunctory woman writes up a quote and
offers it to us as a comparison to what we're already paying to Progressive.
She then conducts us to delivery where a brassy blonde with inch and a half long
finger nails schedules us for our pre-delivery walk through on Thursday and
offers us a bunch of premiums that come with our purchase: free zone membership
in Thousand Trails, President's Club membership, Flying J discount card, and,
most important, a LIFETIME meal ticket in the Lazy Days cafeteria. I have mind
pictures of moving to Tampa and eating twice a day at Lazy Days - grits and
spaghetti.
We ask Brian to call ahead for
us and head for Bartow Ford to meet Larry Hodge. Bartow turns out to be thirty
miles east along highway 60. We drive past orange groves, strawberry fields,
and potash mines for a long time. We find the agency, a large jumble with a big
commercial truck and leasing department. Larry Hodge waddles out of his office
to meet us a takes us back. The wall is covered with posters and pictures. He
has a Mustang P-38 telephone and number of inflatable rocket ships. A picture
of his airplane hangs on the wall. I wonder whether he can possibly climb onto
the wing, let alone fit through the door. He knows what we're there to buy, but
first he insists on asking us a lot of questions about what kind of drivers we
are, how we treat our vehicle, and what we think the upgrades will do for us.
He tells us he's the expert on these sorts of matters, regularly doing seminars
at Lazy Days, the RV industry show at Louisville, and around the country.
Apparently satisfied, he agrees to sell us a 30,000 lb. Upgrade kit, an exhaust
brake, and a couple of gauges. If all goes well, the parts will be available
and we'll have them installed on Monday.
Larry recommends a good steak
house on the way home. We stop and discover he's a good judge of beef. We stop
at Best Buy for an upstairs TV for the new rig, come home, and fall into bed.
It's been an exhausting day, but we're sure we've made a good decision and been
treated fairly.