Listen ladies, if there was ever a great time to be a woman, it's now. We're accepted into and attend college more often than our male counterparts. We can have all the dirty, raunchy, guilt-free sex we want. We're even allowed to wear pants now and vote. It's a pretty awesome deal, I must say.
So with all of this freedom and bra-swinging girl power we've got going on, why does it seem to be nearly impossible to walk onto a car lot without some slimy salesman trying to sell you purely on cushy seats and shiny colors? Did you know that women make up nearly 80% of the car buying market? 80%, girls. I had no idea until I got my panties in a twist and decided to do a little research when some jerkoff at a local dealership wouldn't give me the time of day. Now I know, and I'm mad, and I'm going to make sure that all of you fine, fine ladies out there don't let some idiot screw the hell out of you—unless you say it's okay and he buys you a drink beforehand.
First and foremost, you've got to know that walking onto a car lot is a lot like meeting up with an ex-boyfriend. You can't walk in with all this pent up emotional baggage, unprepared and uninformed, or you're going to fall apart at the seams like last year's discount bathing suit. Don't do that to yourself. Do some research! Take a quiz, do a crossword or some shit. I don't care what you do, but figure out beforehand what kind of car you're looking for, in what price range, and what your needs are, rather than your wants. I mean, sure that little red number is a nice ride, but if the heater breaks in the dead of winter, it definitely won't be keeping you warm on those cold nights, baby. So listen to Momma Lauren when I tell you that you need to be sure what it is you want and need before you even get onto the lot. If you don't and you walk in confused, just like that nasty ex-boyfriend of yours, the salesman will swindle his way into convincing you what HE wants, and trust me, you won't like it when he goes balls-deep in your bank account.
If things aren't going so well, take down the "S" when no one's looking, then demand free beer.So you've walked in with both boobs blazing, manless, and ready to talk gas mileage. Seeing that there isn't, in fact, going to be a nice, young lad to come help you find your way out of the shiny sea of metal, Chuck or Big Al or whatever the unfortunate man's name is, finally decides to walk over to you and see if he can't assist you in figuring out what those things flying in the sky are.
This is when you need to remember the ex-boyfriend metaphor. Sure, he looks good now. He may even offer you a nice, hot cup of coffee, but don't forget that in a short time from now, he'll probably steal your TiVo, your self-esteem, and your dog. Don't be fooled, ladies. Don't be fooled. Since you've done all your research and know what you're looking for, there's no way in hell that little weasel is going to talk you into leasing some sports car with shitty mileage, right?! Right. And just like running into that stupid ex of yours (who totally is not doing that well without you, by the way), you don't want to seem weak and nervous. So don't run around the dealership like an ass yapping about how you're planning on paying, or if you're trying to trade in the car you have now. Don't give him the advantage by giving away too much information. Mystery is the key, ladies.
Furthermore, make sure you see what cards they have by finding the final price, before you start laying yours on the table. At the end of the day, these people care first and foremost about making their commission, not about getting you the best deal, so don't think you have to play nice with them. They work for you.
So you're doing your thing, you're keeping your cool, you're making that slimeball work for every shitty tie he has. Good for you. You are definitely woman and I can hear you roaring from here. Since you should have found a car you like by now (if you haven't, I suggest you leave before you get suckered into buying a Ford Bronco), the next thing on your to-do list should be to get in that bad boy and show him a good time. Take him for a spin and be sure to make a few swift, emergency stops and a couple tight turns to see how that baby handles. If he rubs you the right way (the car, not the dealer—well maybe the dealer…) then have them print out of the Terms of Purchase for you, tell the salesperson that you appreciate their help (or lackthereof), and say you'd like to shop around a little more and sleep on your options. Car dealers are just like boy toys, girls. If you make them think that you're going to the rodeo with someone better, they'll probably show up right and ready with a much better horse and a pretty sexy hat. Men love a challenge, I'm sure you realize.
So you've slept on your options for a few days, or maybe your dealer, depending on how that rub down went, and you've made your decision. Not interested anymore? That's okay. There are plenty of other Pontiacs in the sea. Decided you want to go back for seconds? Well go get your car, you naughty little minx! Congratulations! You've successfully just bought (or leased) yourself a car, while not getting banged in the ass. After last year's Spring Break, you better not of let yourself get banged in the ass again. We both know that shit didn't go down well and you can't make that mistake twice. You just can't.
So I hope you enjoy your brand new (or used) car, and if you haven't found The One just yet, well at least now you have the knowledge of how to do it without ruining your life and your self-esteem. Good luck, ladies!