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During a test drive, I had a salesman actually direct me to a road he
said was "fun". He actually told me that I could drive it, shall we say,
"briskly". I didn't know that he didn't have his seat belt on, and he
didn't know that I lived on that road...
This is him: =8-O
Suffice it to say that when I stopped at the stop sign and he got his
breath back, he asked if we could just drive s-l-o-w-l-y back to the
dealership. I obliged him, but with a big grin on my face.
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When I test drove an SVT Contour the salesgirl (couldn't have been more
than 20) wondered why I looked closely at the tires beforehand - and
one was low so they had to top them off. She sat in the back seat,
wife.gov was in the front. As we were heading around a long sweeping
corner at speed - I think it may have been dog-legging - all I heard
from the back seat was "F*ck, f*ck, f*ck!" Wife.gov started laughing
when we got back and the salesgirl said, "Sorry for the language,
please don't tell the manager."
Gene
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