The Case Of The Elusive Car Salesman :: essays research papers

I was pacing around Lexington, waiting for my local mechanic to finish the latest repairs on my ‘77 Chevy Impala. My name's Yesterday, Sam Yesterday. It was hot in Lexington, by that is not uncommon for mid-July. I'd had a good several months, and I was in good financial position for the first time since I bought that Impala back in 1977. That car had served me well, but lately it had been failing. Maybe it was time for a trade, I thought; so I walked over to the nearest friendly (sort of) car dealership. As soon as I set foot on the shiny showroom floor, it seized me. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. A sparkling combination of steel, leather, electronics, and a very large engine. The muscle car had been revitalized in the form of a 1995 Chevy Impala SS. It was sleek, resembling the type of car Darth Vader would drive. I grabbed the nearest salesman, hopped into the body hugging leather bucket, fired up the 275 bhp. LT1 engine and took off. As the 6-speaker CD stereo belted out Aerosmith the poor salesman tried to sell me a car that had already sold itself. I had fallen in love, it was the only car that I had loved since that ‘77 Impala. It had an engine large enough to satisfy my primitive need for power, an image that screamed "Hey you with the radar gun! See if you can catch me!" Granted, it was heavy, it had watery boat-like handling, and drank gas like my Uncle Bubba drinks beer. Still, I loved it. It wasn't Japanese, German, Korean, or otherwise. It was a big hunk of purebred, American muscle car, dammit. I picked out a nice shiny new one, called the bank and drove home in my new wheels. I decided to spring for all the bells and whistles; leather, CD player, alarm system, keyless entry, etc. I figured that if this car was going to run as long as my last Impala it should be well-equipped. As I was admiring the view from my office in the Financial Center, the phone rang. I answered and was greeted by a rather hysterical woman named Diane who thought that she had been cheated by her car dealership. "That evil Car salesman has kidnaped my car!" she explained. I calmed her down and asked what happened. "Well, Larry, the salesman, picked up my Lexus for servicing, just as usual. Also as usual, he left a more expensive car as a loaner. Later in the day,