Today marks exactly six months since I began my job as a used car salesman. It's a tougher job than I expected at the pay level, involving several job roles performed simultaneously. I always joke that I'm a salesman who also works at a call center and as a lot technician and at a helpline. The demands are great; there isn't much time to catch your breath or take more than a minute or two to yourself. If you're not with a customer, you're on the phones. If there's a lot job to be done, drop the phones and get it done, then get right back on the phones. 50 calls a day is what's expected, never mind that a sale takes, on average, three hours from start to finish!
I've certainly learned a lot already, though. Despite The Company's emphasis on corporate bullshit (hour long Teams calls about how to build value in ancillary products and create customer engagement from application to sale, anyone?) the real learning has been how to tackle a long and complicated process with a million minute guidelines, legal necessities, and technical aspects while juggling the Almighty Customer, who we must treat with the utmost patience and respect even if they are a gibbering fool who doesn't have anything in their life together and absolutely won't convert to a sale.
The process, honestly, fascinates me. As painful as it is to be the vital cog between an unfeeling predatory lender and a witless Customer, the challenge of knowing the guidelines and what's required in each unique circumstance while balancing those requirements with discovering what the Customer wants (or can afford) is surprisingly engaging, if oftentimes frustrating. As someone who's inherently organized and thinks in terms of processes and workflows in any situation from cleaning house to organizing a get-together, it tickles the part of my brain that demands the waterfowl remain in an orderly queue.
I've learned a lot about cars, too, something I have never given a single shit about in my life outside of knowing how to put gasoline in one and how to swipe my credit card for an oil change. Six months ago, I didn't know transmissions had fluid, didn't know a real differential from an alternator, and could probably be duped into paying to get my blinker fluid topped off. I'm no technical expert on cars, but I at least now know what I'm looking at under the hood.
One strange side effect is that I'm starting to be able to recognize cars at a glance. I'll see a white blur in the passing lane and, before consciously processing it, think "oh, that was a nice Charger, probably early 2010s?" I've learned to laugh at the Juke and the Soul, to appreciate the silent might of a Taurus or Mazda6, and to know that most Fords manufactured in the last 6 years likely have an unaddressed recall of their transmission bushing. (Curious about yours? The government has a lookup tool for every individual vehicle on the road. Worth a few minutes to check out. Don't forget, recall repairs are always 100% free through the manufacturer!)
I've started to gain an interest in personal finance through the unfortunate lens of contracting people onto predatory loans, whether they're desperate or, more commonly, stupid. As part of the sales process, I get to pull a Customer's full credit report, which gives me a bit of an insight into their financial circumstances. It's shocking how many people don't know how to manage money. I see people who make twice what I do with two charged-off auto loans, an upside-down mortgage, and a FICO score that would make a beggar blush. It makes me curious about the state of financial literacy among the clientele we attract, and as someone who has always lived within his means, how many others don't.
This job has been a rollercoaster of triumphs and frustrations, getting used to the graceful dance of salesmanship while stomping the boot of credit extension. I'm definitely learning some valuable skills and gaining a bit of insight into what truly makes me tick. I don't think I'll stay at this job forever--in fact, I'll take the first exit on the map--but it's definitely hardened me a bit by stretching me in several directions at once. Ultimately, I hope for a job one day that involves me taking on a task, using my wits and skills to solve problems, and ending up somewhere I'm proud of, preferably while making twice what I currently do in the process. In the meanwhile, I'll keep striking away until the rod is shaped, thinking I should be paid more with each strike of the hammer.