Saving you money….

        You have to admire the chutzpah of some sellers. Especially during this period when the holidays are close at hand and retailers willing to stretch the truth in their efforts to separate you from your money are everywhere. A case in point is one of my favorite furniture stores. They advertise heavily on local TV - their tagline is always the same: “Savin’ you money at Curries.” Of course, what they really want is just the opposite and their tagline should be: Takin’ your money at Curries.”

I had forgotten this lesson when a personal letter to me arrived from my local automotive dealership. I bought a new truck this fall so my wallet is thinner than normal. Given that state of affairs, I was especially alert to the opportunity to avoid spending a few greenbacks. Accordingly, I was elated when I opened a letter from the dealer and out fell a booklet of coupons with facsimile U. S. currency: several 20’s, a couple 50’s and a single 100-dollar bill.

“Halellujah!” I blurted, reasoning that the dealer had selected me for such largess since I had made a major purchase there.

Standing with the letter in hand was such a Roscommon moment that I instantly decided to order that repair on my old car. It had something to do with the engine according to the lighted image on the instrument panel. Given my vast automotive experience, I knew the engine picture was not a good thing, but what with the wad of $20’s, $50’s and the $100 in my fist, who cared about the cost for repair at the dealership?

I should have been forewarned when the Service Manager explained about charges.

“You know, we get $89 dollars for an analysis of the problem causing the engine picture,” he said. I nodded with a knowing shrug, as I fingered the big book of coupons in my pocket.

“I’ll be in the waiting room while you fix the problem.” I ambled off toward the waiting room filled with overstuffed leather chairs, a television, internet ports, and a cute little popcorn station next to the free candy bars. I had no sooner finished my second candy bar when the Service Manager came to see me.

“We’re all finished. I have your bill.”

He pushed a five-page receipt toward me that seemed like a small book with several thousand entries. I wondered how they could create so many pages for a bill in a mere 20 minutes. I jumped to the bottom line, last page - $286. I pulled out my book of coupons, assuming the 20’s, 50’s and the single $100 would cover the entire cost.

“Ohhh,” he practically chortled. “You have the coupons.” His voice sounded ominous. “I’ll recalculate your costs and show you your savings.”

It was not a pretty picture. The Service Manager explained about percentages and adding and carrying the one, and the fine print in the coupon book. It turned out that my 20’s, 50’s and the single 100, weren’t really money and that the fine print in the coupon book said that only one bill could be used at any dealership visit and that the coupon could cover no more than 20% of the total bill. Whew! After tapping out a new bill with my coupon book in hand, the Service Manager said my new total was $240, after taxes, of course. He smiled as he handed me the bill.

Actually, the dealership repair bill was small potatoes compared to a more recent experience with my camping store. I own a 5^th wheel. This summer the wind blew harder than my awning could withstand causing a nasty tear in the corner, prompting the need for repair which the camping store said would require a total awning replacement. Such was the case when I again opened the mail to find a catalogue and letter informing of a nationwide sale on camping gear at certain camping stores including my very own, formerly favorite camping store. I practically tore the catalogue in pieces as I searched the pages for awnings. I found the awning we needed. On sale. An awning normally priced over $400 for a mere $269. And, here is the best part, INSTALLATION IS ONLY $29.

“Praise the Lord!” I said. I nearly stumbled in my haste to phone the camping store for my new awning.

“Just stop by to give us your credit card so we can order the awning,” she said.

“I have to pay first?”

“Yes, the cost for the awning is non-refundable and we need you to pay the total bill before we order the parts.”

“Including labor?”

“Including labor,” she said, as she went on to explain in the same voice I used to hear when I was three years old.

I didn’t like it, but I wanted to save money, so I stopped at the camping store with credit card in hand to pay for something that I wouldn’t get until a clerk somewhere decided to punch a few keys on his computer instead of looking at dirty pictures on the internet. The camping store Service Manager spent several minutes tapping keys on her computer. Finally, the printer began to whir and pages started tumbling out as if she was authoring a short story while I waited to pay my bill. After she had collected a dozen pages, she said she needed my credit card as she turned the last page toward me showing the bottom line - $439.

I was ready. I pulled out my catalog and opened it to the awning page.

“I have this catalog showing the sale, and…..” She interrupted as if she was calling the three year-old class to attention.

“I included all that. The ad doesn’t include all the costs. Here.”

It was a command to look at the beginning of the dozen pages detailing all the charges. I looked at where her finger pointed. The first line was the beginning of a downhill cascade that took my money faster than a snow sled on a bobsled run.

“Shipping is $95. The ad doesn’t include shipping. Unless you have some of way of getting the awning from Indiana.”

I nodded off into a trance that occurs whenever someone begins robbing me. She took my bobbing head as an affirmation of her skills in teaching children about high finance.

“Then you have a $44 labor cost for removal of the old awning – you want it removed so we can install the new one, don’t you?” My head began shaking uncontrollably.

She rambled on for several minutes about shop supplies, state taxes, and other fees required for shop work and setting up an appointment. I had to admit - this woman had cochonnes: she wrapped up her pitch and then had the audacity to tell me that I had saved $100.

 

Next week the store will install my new awning.

 

The camping store and their marketing made General Motors and my local dealership seem like neophytes in the business of bringing gullible customers like me to their store. Once there, we three year-olds are no match for accomplished Service Managers who make chicanery seem honest, an experience, it seems to me, that is strangely similar to my one-time visit in watching cows ambling forward, head-to-tail, as they slowly entered the slaughter house.