Chrome Dome and the Deer
When I first got into the car business back long ago, salesmen got a new car to drive as part of their employment package. In most dealerships the car was free as long as you sold a certain number of cars, usually ten a month, which was no big hill to climb.
The manufacturers picked up a portion of the cost to the dealership for offering a “demo” by discounting the cars to the dealership in certain ways. It put more new Buicks or Caddys on the road, it insured the dealership always had a supply of new cars they could discount, and it allowed dealers to hire good salesmen who otherwise might have opted to become doctors or dentists. We usually ran the cars to about four-thousand miles before they got pulled and we got a new car.
The demise of the demo programs was the result of many factors; cars were getting more expensive and flooring costs were rising, but the biggest factor may have been the meteoric rise in insurance premiums. And insurance premiums rising was mostly a direct result of the salesmen that drove the cars. Car salesmen in the olden days were notorious drunks and fuck ups. It’s not so bad now, and we call them sales people now, which may be a big reason that the drunken salesman is a thing of the past. Now we have to include women and women aren’t as notorious, drunk though they may be.
I have the perfect example of a drunken salesman who hastened the end to the demo program. We called him Chrome Dome, you may guess why. He was the finance manager at the dealership I worked for. He made big piles of money, wore really snazzy suits and expensive shoes, silk ties, and always drove a hi-line demo. And he drank the finest whiskey and smoked the best green bud you could buy.
One morning when I came to work, Chrome Dome wasn’t in. He was late. All the salesmen that were on time had bleary eyes and smelled of alcohol. It seems I missed a big after-work party at the local disco bar the night before. And it seems Chrome Dome had missed his morning call to wake and attend work.
Over an hour late, I saw him pull into the back entrance to the dealership. I’d been walking the lot checking inventory and smoking a cigarette and he was sneaking in the back in his brand new Buick Park Avenue, the fleet leader for Buick. I could see it was seriously crunched on the front passenger side. There were chrome parts hanging off, the fender was smashed, the windshield was shattered, and the hood was crumpled up.
Chrome Dome parked and got out. He was stumbling around, fixing his tie, tucking in his shirt, and generally trying to check himself out for wear and tear before walking into the dealership. As I got closer, I could see tree bark in the grill of the car and a big wad or dirt and plant material crammed into the crease between what was left of the fender and the door jamb. The right front wheel was skewed and didn’t line up with the other wheel, and when I got close enough, I could see there was a fair-sized branch of a tree stuck through the windshield. I was wondering to myself how Chrome Dome had even driven the car, when he noticed me.
He said, while his eyes tried to focus, “Damned deer run out in front of me last night. Guess I hit it pretty hard.”
I shook my head, started giggling, and replied, “Deer must have been a Zombie with no blood, huh?
The beginning of the demise of the demo program for sure.