{"id":4217,"date":"2015-02-03T10:06:04","date_gmt":"2015-02-03T18:06:04","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/streamoftheconscious.com\/?p=4217"},"modified":"2016-02-03T13:22:09","modified_gmt":"2016-02-03T21:22:09","slug":"sexism-is-alive-and-well-in-the-american-auto-industry","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/streamoftheconscious.com\/sexism-is-alive-and-well-in-the-american-auto-industry\/","title":{"rendered":"Sexism is Alive and Well in the American Auto Industry"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"bleuvous-sexist-ads27\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Jon\u2019s car began to sputter and cough \u201cUncle.\u201d Which, of course, was communicated via mechanic bills becoming exponentially higher than the entirety of the vehicle\u2019s worth.<\/p>\n

So the decision was made to go car shopping.<\/p>\n

My prior car history involves running a vehicle until it is ready to return to its origins of fossil fuel in a fiery blaze of glory \u2013 sometimes quite literally<\/a>. This is not due to emotional attachment; this is because of my distaste for the car purchasing process.<\/p>\n

But since I am the family member with the typical rush hour commute, we agreed that we would purchase a more fuel-efficient commuter car for me to drive. Jon would take over day-to-day operations of the MomMobile. (I guess we can\u2019t call it that anymore.)<\/p>\n

We\u2019ve all heard the stereotypes of women being talked down to \u2013 so make sure to bring your big strong husband with you \u2013 but, it\u2019s 2015. That\u2019s not really a thing anymore is it?<\/p>\n

Allow me to enlighten you.<\/p>\n

It is very much still a thing. So much so, that when we began our negotiations today, it was as though the Chevy dealership opened their showroom doors and proclaimed, \u201cCome TechMom! Allow us to dictate several blogs for you!\u201d<\/p>\n

Lest you think I\u2019m simply picking on General Motors, I survived dealership torture only 4.5 years ago \u2013 11 days after the muppets made their grand entrance. When we first began investigating stroller capacity for the MomMobile, we stopped by a Honda dealership where we met a delightful salesman who never even acknowledged my existence with something so simple as eye contact.<\/p>\n

It does not appear that half a decade has changed the status quo in the American auto industry.<\/p>\n

It started off innocuously enough. A jovial middle-aged man welcomed us. We chatted about what we were looking for and what options were currently sitting around on the lot. No one asked me about my preference for \u201cpretty colors.\u201d (An actual event in the MomMobile acquisition. NB: I did not get the color I wanted.)<\/p>\n

Of course, up until this time, I\u2019d let my big strong husband do all the conversating.<\/p>\n

We were close enough to a deal that it was time to go inside and haggle. This is another concept that I strongly feel needs to die a quick death in the 21st<\/sup> century. Because Internet.<\/p>\n

For several hours I sat politely. I am not exaggerating. Jon and I had previously gone spelunking into the swaths of research that lie within the interwebs. We knew what we were willing to spend.<\/p>\n

Smarminess began oozing out of the jovial salesman. Homeboy WANTED a sale. And given the added pushiness, he wanted a high commission out of it. He said a number. We said a number. He said another number.<\/p>\n

Finally I replied, \u201cNo thank you. We are not interested in playing a game. We will pay X dollars. Is that feasible?<\/p>\n

He repeated his number.<\/p>\n

I repeated myself, \u201cNo thank you.\u201d<\/p>\n

He chuckled and said, \u201cWell yes, you said that. But I haven\u2019t heard your husband say no yet.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jon replied calmly, \u201cI didn\u2019t realize you couldn\u2019t hear her clearly.\u201d I stared daggers at the salesman’s\u00a0poorly coiffed head. (I have spent the previous three decades perfecting \u201cthe look.\u201d)<\/p>\n

Listen scooter, in the incident command system<\/a> that is our family, I own the planning and finance pieces.<\/p>\n