So, we went car browsing today. I like calling it that, because it’s really not an option. You can’t “browse.” If you pull in the lot, you’re “buying.” We only visited two dealers and we knew we weren’t going to buy anything today. We really just wanted to test-drive the cars we’re considering. And we did. We drove the cars. But we knew we’d have to put up with everything else that comes with this process for the privilege of the test drive.
Car sales are really a micro-sociological gold mine in terms of interactions. The salespersons have to keep interactions from getting awkward. If multiple people come, as was the case with us, they have to quickly assess who’s going to be doing “the talking.” My wife and I didn’t talk about it beforehand, but we both knew it would be her. I know next to nothing about cars and my wife subscribed to Car & Driver when she was younger. Her dad’s a mechanic. In fact, the first time I met my father-in-law we were under the hood of her car. He tells her to “pop the hood” every time he sees her. He’s a wonderful man and I can’t even imagine him intentionally trying to intimidate me. But I remember feeling that he wouldn’t have had to try hard that day.
Men are always “doing gender” when cars come up. And buying a car is, I think, thought of as something men do. This is because buying a car involves a set of interactional skills with which we assume men are better equipped. Short-story-long, this is an assumption that does not hold for me. I have my wife call to cancel magazine subscriptions pretending she’s me so that I won’t feel bullied into subscribing for another year. But, I love the interactions at dealerships.
As a buyer, you try to not act overly interested. Though of course, sellers know that few people would subject themselves to the kind of interactions you have to endure when you actually open your car door, step out onto the lot, and commit to “looking,” unless they are, in fact, interested. And then there’s the fact that, really, everyone’s interested in a new car on some level. Sellers are aware of the stereotypes about car salespersons. We don’t call them “salesmen” anymore, though all of the salespersons we saw at both dealerships we visited were men. At the second dealership, we weren’t approached immediately, but someone was called out quickly to “take care of us.” When someone tells a car salesman to “take care of you,” it feels more like the mob’s use of the phrase than how it’s used by, say, doctors and nurses. Sellers know this. So, they have to be careful not to appear too polished, too eager, etc.



