Tales from Sales: No Plate Like Chrome

Not wanting to leave a dollar on the table, dealerships are more than eager to kit out new vehicles to their purchaser's “taste”. I use that term loosely.

Running boards that serve only to smear dirt on the pants of a person exiting the vehicle. Trailer hitches that could be installed for a pittance elsewhere. Flimsy bug shields and side window air deflectors that, in reality, do nothing other than direct rain into the car at odd angles, potentially spoiling an otherwise perfectly good bag of Zesty Cheese Doritos.

Reasons for customers buying these items are as varied as the day is long. Some feel the need to "customize" their new whip. Some think that it adds to the trade in value down the road. I think putting an extra 100lb of chrome on the nose of your truck only serves to bugger up the weight distribution and provide the aerodynamic properties of a barn door. But hey, whatever floats your boat.

Plus, this shit is really profitable. It’s in my best interest to sell it, no matter how ugly.

On occasion, the Dealer Principal will inexplicably feel the need to change up the compensation of the sales staff. The month that he tried to alter the structure of recompense for accessories sticks out in my mind.

The crux of the new arrangement was that in order to get paid commission on selling an accessory, one had to be "above average" for that month. This was announced at the morning sales meeting on the 1st, and I immediately picked up on a glaring flaw.

"Isn't the very definition of average that some are above a number and some are below it?" I asked, not without an underlying tone of snark, if I'm honest.

"Sell more than everybody else and you won't have to worry about it" was the reply, and he attempted to move onto other business. I however, was on this like lint on a cheap suit.

"Hang on now," I said, holding up my hand to emphasize that I was not to be brushed off. "Unless we all sell the exact same amount of accessories, someone is not going to get paid!"

All my colleagues needed to hear was someone’s not getting paid; they got alarmed and asked what the hell I was on about. The manager, on the other hand, glared at me as if I had just punched a kitten. To his dismay, I had immediately seen the issue with his scheme when he hoped that no one would.

“Think about it!” I roared, now suddenly really upset that, if not for the stats classes through which I toiled at university, no one would have called him on this. “If five of us sell $5000 worth of chrome and one person sells $4995, the poor schmuck who equally worked his arse off gets nothing!” The meeting room suddenly took on a mutinous atmosphere. Neckties were loosened. Voices were raised. No kittens were punched.

The plan was put into place anyways ... for a month. If everyone sells $0, out of spite and protestation, no one gets shafted. The dealer also doesn’t make any money. After that mysterious $0 coincidence, the new plan disappeared very quietly.

If you truly like the look or style of the accessory, buy it. If it’s a functional addition, buy it. Otherwise, leave it on the shelf.