Sadly, the fantastic sales person I dealt with last time, Heather, was nowhere to be found when I showed up at Miller today. Actually, aside from one or two customers sitting in the waiting area by the service department, I didn't see any women at that dealership, though I would have been happy to deal with anybody, really. Well, fine then, work with what you've got, right? I used to be in car sales, I know that business can be a total sausage fest to work in, so it's not like it was a big surprise to discover a lack of women working the sales floor. Any sales person can do the job, right? Except that not a single sales person approached to greet me, even as I paced around the showroom, sizing up the shiny, black Z28 they had sitting there. When I walk into a dealership, I'm not just sizing up the cars. I'm looking to see how they treat their customers. This time around was totally different from last year, and it really does make a difference when sales staff are on the ball and when they're just hanging out. I didn't pick a busy time of day to pop in, and it didn't seem like they were just bursting with customers, either. In fact, there were a couple guys just standing around chatting with each other who didn't seem to have anything better to do, but damned if I could get a sales person to acknowledge my presence. Well, one of them did walk right by me and mutter "Hi" on his way to the other side of the showroom. I was actually looking for more of a "Hi, welcome to Miller Chevrolet. I'm ------, Is somebody helping you already, or is there anything I can do for you?" -Usually paired with a handshake. Didn't happen. I walked out to the lot and made my way over to the Camaros. Nobody approached.
Now, I could have gone into the store and tracked somebody down to page a sales person, or tracked down a sales person myself for that matter, but that's not how this is supposed to go, and I don't play that. I was in car sales, and sales were never so busy and fantastic that I could afford to sit back and let customers drift off without even bothering to greet them and find out if I could help them. After all, even if a customer isn't in the market today, that doesn't mean they'll never buy another car, and when they do, I wanted a shot at being the person who gets them that vehicle. I refuse to do another sales person's job for them. I just won't deal with lousy customer service. Miller already lost the race against Superior Ford for greeting time, though that's not too surprising, given that I had taken a mere five or six steps in the door at Superior before being greeted properly. The problem is, they weren't even a close second.
So, after I had a good gander at the outdoor Camaros, I made my way back toward the front of the store, where the two guys that I saw standing around chatting while swaying back and forth on their heels with their hands in their pockets had moseyed out to. I figured I'd give them one last shot at upping. Even as I walked back their way, they couldn't be bothered to ask if I had been helped. They watched me walk to my Mustang and drive off. Good God! Could I have been more obvious about what I was there for? I showed up driving an aging direct competitor to a car they sell that's coming into its hot season right now, walk right over to that very car, and they don't even try to find out if I'm in the market? Are sales really booming so much that sales staff can afford to do that?
I have no idea what the problem was... I mean, it was really windy outside today, and my hair was blowing around a bit. Maybe they took one look at my wind-tousled crazy person hair and said to themselves "Man, no way am I going on a test drive with that nut!" I don't know.
Granted, I wasn't there to buy, though it's not outside the realm of possibility that I would be. I adore my Mustang, but it could happen if just the right car and just the right deal came along. Regardless, here's a fact: The last time I blogged about my test drive experience at Miller, Heather, the sales person I dealt with, got a sale out of it. Based on that Impala post, one of my readers made an appointment with Heather to look at an SUV that they ended up purchasing. I've even ridden in said SUV post purchase -it's quite lovely, by the way. So, it's not like there is nothing at stake. Here's my take on this: if you're going to Miller Chev, call ahead and make an appointment, preferably with Heather Castanon - assuming she's still in their sales department -or risk having an experience like I did today.
But enough about that unpleasantness. It just so happens that on the other side of the interstate from Miller sits a beacon of automotive awesomeness. I write, of course, of Ellingson Classic Cars, a place that never disappoints. So I didn't get to take out a Camaro to challenge and maybe even change the notion that I and many others share of the model -that Camaros are for people who marry their cousins (blame the models of the mid and late 1980's for that reputation)... Well, today didn't do much to disabuse me of that impression, but no matter, because at least the drive up to Rogers wasn't wasted. Over to Ellingson I went, and I'm glad I did.
Ellingson Clasic Cars has a bunch of new (not brand new, but new to their sales floor) and wonderful stuff. I absolutely fell in love with a couple of vehicles there today, but rather than get into those right now, I thought I'd feature a car that is a part of history sitting right there in their show room. It also happens to be the most expensive vehicle in the place, priced at $875,000.
This behemoth is a 1939 Maybach model SW38 convertible sedan; the epitome of German luxury automobiles back in its day. It is enormous. So heavy, in fact, that the guy I spoke to at Ellingson said they couldn't get their lift to heft it in order to take a look underneath.
Something so big, you'd expect it to have an equally mammoth engine under that hood. You'd be surprised. There's just an inline 6 cylinder powering it. And it's not even that big -only 3,817 cubic centimeters (3.8L) and it makes around 140 HP, which was good for its day, but not exactly hot stuff now (consider that the EcoBoost Mustang I drove just the other day has a 2.3L engine that whips up more than double the power)
The front doors are hinged to open in a suicide fashion, while the rear doors open normally. The body of the car is beautiful, the coachwork done by Hermann Spohn. This car, I'm told is unrestored, but extremely well preserved, with only 60,000 miles on it (actually, it's kilometers - 96,700 of them -after all, this car spent its younger years in Germany, not the US). The interior leaves lots of space for the passengers, which makes sense, because these cars, the Maybach convertible sedans, were used to tote around people who were considered important.
You might note that this car is sporting parade flags with the Maybach logo on them. Not too surprising to think that this big old convertible might have driven a few dignitaries and big shots around in a parade. It seems well suited to that type of activity, after all ...And here's where the car's history gets dark and ugly. Think of the time period in which this car came into being, and then think of the country where it was made during that time. I've been told that this car has a second set of parade flags from its first lifetime. Those would be nazi flags, and because of their historical significance and the historical artifact status of this car (this automobile did spend many years of its life on display in a museum prior to coming to Minnesota), they're still with the vehicle, just not displayed. Now, this was not a car that Hitler rode in, but from what I've been told, this car was the one that would follow third in the procession behind Hitler's car, hosting a German general during parades.
That's a pretty heavy burden to bear for a car with so much weight to wield already, but one can hardly blame the machine for the actions of the people who rode in it, I suppose. Ironically, before making its way to Ellingson Classic Cars in Rogers, I'm told this particular Maybach spent many years of its life in a private collection in St Louis Park, a city with a significant Jewish population stemming from many Jewish families settling there from surrounding areas after WWII.
I don't imagine this car's previous purpose was too popular with the folks around town, but I kind of like the idea of the Jewish community taking ownership of this car through having it present. In a way, it seems like the car flipped its history and switched sides, salvaging its beauty from its ugly past by making its home in that city. Good, I say, because it's an amazing and impressive car.
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