"There's an old saying in Tennessee — I know it's in Texas, probably in Tennessee — that says, fool me once, shame on — shame on you. Fool me — you can't get fooled again." ... George W. BushA continuation of the struggle by Barry D. Prez to sell Mr. John Q. Public a serviceable new car when none is available.
A month or so after checking in at Executive Auto Sales for any information about the new car line supposedly being developed by the manufacturer’s design team, and being disappointed by the ridiculous prototype on display, John Q. Public received a phone call from Sales Manager of the Year Barry D. Prez letting him know that things were beginning to look up.
“Mr. Public,” Barry said excitedly, “have I got a deal for you!”
John Q. had learned from previous experiences at Executive Sales to be very suspicious about any good news, but his old car was really starting to frighten him now because it had developed a tendency to shake while he was driving to work and no mechanic he consulted could seem to fix it even though they kept charging him more and more money just to take a look. John Q. really needed that car because he was getting too old to walk to his job every day, and a total breakdown would be disastrous to his finances. So he agreed to head over to Executive Sales one more time even though he didn’t count on much having changed. But when he arrived and walked through the big transparent front doors for the third time, Barry D. Prez grabbed him by the arm and guided him toward one side of the showroom where a shiny new car sat waiting to be inspected.
“I’ve been working with the manufacturer,” Barry told him. “I even went out to their plant and spoke directly with the company President and Chief Designer Mack Bauco. He gave me a tour of their facility, and I had a chance to talk directly with the entire design team. Nice bunch of guys, mostly.”
“What did they have to say?”
“They’re close, John Q., very close. I was able to wrangle a prototype car for shipment back home, and here it is. I think it’s pretty nice looking, especially considering that part of their factory crew is on strike,”
“You mean that the reason you haven’t been able to sell me a new car is that the factory is in some kind of turmoil?”
“Unfortunately true, but the ones who aren’t walking around the plant holding signs and shouting insults are hard at work trying to do whatever they can to get into production. It doesn’t help that a few of them sympathize with the guys outside, but they claim that one way or another they will have new cars to ship by next month. Of course, the ideal design may have to be compromised a little because Mr. Bauco wants to avoid antagonizing the strikers by including anything in the design that they would refuse to assemble once the strike is over. But whatever gets left out at the beginning can be added later once the situation calms down and sales start to rise.”
“What about the car?” John Q. said. “Is it any good?”
“Absolutely. Take a look for yourself.”
John Q. inspected the vehicle and found that all the wacky features he had seen a month ago on the earlier display model seemed to have been cleaned up. The wheels were normal, the paint job seemed okay, and it had useable windows even though they were the old crank style. Looking closer, he found that there were no fancy gadgets that he might have expected in a new car – no air conditioning, CD player, power seats, or anything else – and the transmission was a standard shift. But at least it looked drivable.
“What do they call this model?” he asked.
“It’s a Baucomobile,” Barry said happily. “It’s like the old Model T. No fancy options, just a plain car that runs okay.”
“What about other models,” John Q. asked.
“There aren’t any. This is it.”
John Q. was not thrilled about buying a drab looking new car with no options, but he was willing to consider it because of the sorry state of his old vehicle, so he said, “Let’s look under the hood.” Barry winced a little but complied by raising the hood to show off the engine compartment. Mounted inside was a two-cylinder Briggs and Stratton lawnmower engine.
“Damn All Mighty!” John Q. shouted, and walked straight out into the parking lot, with Barry D. Prez trailing behind. As John Q. headed in the direction of home, Barry called out for him to stop, but John Q. just waived his arm and kept walking.
“Come back John Q.,” Barry yelled. “It’s not perfect, but – hey! - anything is better than nothing.”
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