Wheeler Dealer

I keep waking up around 5 and not being able to get back to sleep.  On previous visits to the US, this has been the norm for the first few days, because of jet lag.  Hopefully that is what it is.  However, I have a feeling it might be because there is money in my pocket and it is burning a hole in it.

If you know me well or have read my memoir, you will know that spending money is not high on my list of priorities. Being used to frugal living with an occasional splurge for clothing or a meal out (weaknesses inherited from my mother who had an eye for style and whose cooking I still hanker for) has not prepared me for what I am about to embark on.

Basically Richard and I are starting from scratch.  We have to buy ourselves a truck and a 5^th wheel trailer which we will have to kit out so that we can live in it full time.  While we are doing this, we are staying with Richard’s cousin and his lovely wife near Austin, Texas.  They are RVers, and we are hoping their experience will rub off on us (ie we are relying on their advice as well as their kind-heartedness).  Once we have done our purchasing, we also have to learn to drive the truck, and tow, park and reverse the trailer, so that we are ready to begin our dream of touring the US in late spring. 

Are we embarking on the adventure of a lifetime?  Oh yes!

Has Richard spent hours researching trucks on the internet over the last two years?  Oh yes!

Have I scoured magazines and planned colour schemes and written endless lists of my preferred kitchen appliances and space saving gadgets in my 5^th wheel? Oh yes!

Are we running around like headless chickens?  Definitely!

Why, I hear you ask? 

Here are the reasons:

1.  No one prepared me for the limitless choice.

The number of different brands of salsa I encountered in one of the many local supermarkets should have given me a clue.  This is the land of consumerism, after all.
 

And Richard and I struggle with it.  We think there is too much choice.  It’s confusing.  When we buy something new, Richard has to check out all the options.  I usually go by what looks best.  When we get to the store and are faced with all the options, we generally end up with the one that looks best, or we walk out with nothing because we can’t make up our minds.

But this time it’s slightly different.

We already know we need a specific size and weight of truck to tow a 5^th wheel.  We want to buy used versions of both to save ourselves the costs of depreciation.  So our choices are already restricted and surely a focused search is all that is needed?

Since our arrival we have spent hours on the websites of hundreds of dealers in the local and wider Austin area (you will already have figured that I am prone to slight exaggeration).  There are hundreds of different models of trucks but the ones for sale on the forecourts mostly come in white, silver, beige or black and all seem to be 4 x 4’s.  So it looks like color and paying extra for a feature we really don’t need or want is something we are going to have to put up with in order to increase our options.

2.       No one prepared me for the Dealing.

I am the type of person who gets a little embarrassed at the haggling I have previously encountered at markets on holidays in the Mediterranean.  I watch my pennies. I like to know that an item is valued a certain way, and that I pay for what I get.  I’m used to having a price on the label that is the same as what I expect to pay at the till…  During previous trips to the US I just about got my head round the fact that the sales tax (aka VAT for UK readers) is added at the till rather than already included in the price on the label.  And that the sales tax varies from one US Sate to another.
 

Now don’t get me wrong – I like a bargain – and I will shop around for a discount, but I like someone to tell me that I am saving 30% or whatever on a previously fixed price.  I like to walk away with my purchase not feeling cheated, wondering if the salesman is laughing all the way to his bank.

But I am secure in the knowledge that Richard is more worldly-wise than me.  He is American.  He is experienced in the art of buying and living in the material world on both sides of the big pond…

So I was unprepared for the encounter at the very first RV dealer we visited…

No balloons or colored price stickers emblazoned anywhere like you see in the movies.  This was a serious joint.  We told Paul, the salesman, that we were newly arrived in the country and what our plans and requirements were.  Online research had showed us that a two or three year old 31 foot length RV would come in around the price we could afford.  We were shown four 5^th wheel RVs.  They were larger than we had thought we could comfortably tow, but Paul was very helpful in advising that as long as the truck was the correct size, there is no real difference in towing a shorter or longer 5^th wheel.

The first two trailers we saw were “Repos” – repossessions – ie new customer ordered to spec but unsold due to lack of financing at the last hurdle.  So we were given a paper listing all of the specs and options and it showed a retail price, at which I mentally raised my eyebrows, knowing that this was much more than what we had budgeted for. 

The last two were second hand.  On inquiring I was advised they were all around the same cost.  Having been very poker-faced about the first two, I could not help but get a little excited about the third, a Jayco Pinnacle, which was a higher spec than the previous two, or anything I had expected to be able to afford, and in great condition.  Oh no, I thought, I’m falling for the sales pitch.  Show the good stuff last – reel the suckers in.  Paul will have clued on and will give us the hard sell.  But I knew we could not afford it and so did Richard and we would follow our plan for such circumstances: we would return to the sales office at the end of the tour and firmly and politely state that we were not interested.  We knew all about pushy salesmen, right?  And Richard is very gifted in dealing diplomatically with salespeople.
 

So we get back to the office and Paul prints out the basic list of specifications for the Pinnacle.  It lists three prices.  I can make out that this is equivalent to the consumer reports in the UK that shows the list price, and estimated used prices for models according to their condition.

Paul:      So shall we make a deal?

We remain silent.  Paul is on his pc, using his calculator.

Paul:      Now, January is a quiet month, and we would be happy to do a deal with you.  Why don’t you make me an offer?

We both remain silent.  I expect Richard to say his no thank you spiel.

Paul:     So the price we would be looking for is this (he writes a figure down – it is the same as the one in excellent condition). 

Are we supposed to ask for less?  What should I say?  Richard?  Help!  Richard?

Paul:      Well… as you aren’t making me an offer, I will make you one.  How about this?

He writes down a figure about 15% less than the price he had just quoted us.  Had our silence un-nerved him?  But, my heart sings, that figure is a lot closer to what we can afford!  Should we counter offer?  Richard?  Help! Richard?

We finally leave the building – with no counter offer, but his is still on the table until the end of the month.  We can go back and wheel deal if we wish.

In the meantime, shell-shocked, I vow to go back to the grocery store and work my way through all the various salsa jars.