Tales of the salesman

[Robert Leigh]

Back in the early 1960s I was rebuilding a 997 Mini-Cooper engine which had broken its crankshaft. I found a scruffy Standard 850 shaft and went to the local BMC dealer, put it on the counter and asked for an exchange quoting the Cooper part number, since exchange was far cheaper than outright sale. As it happened the exchange shaft I got given was brand new, so I did rather well from the deal.

[Reckless Rat]

In the 1970s my daily driver was a Citroën DS21 Pallas, a RHD two pedal one with the hydraulic gearchange. I took the car to an MOT garage across the road from where I worked for its test and told the guy I would call later in the day after I'd finished work. He asked me to put the car on the ramp for him because he wasn't happy about the semi-auto, which should have set alarm bells ringing. Anyway, off to work I went. Knowing the complexity of the car and its foibles I knew there was nothing wrong with it so it should have passed. When I got back later the bloke told me it had failed. On what says I? On a brake pipe says he. Show me please, so he puts the car up on the ramp and proudly points his finger at a steel tube running along the underneath of the car. It did have a little bit of surface patination but nothing serious. That's not a brake pipe, says I, informing him that the brake and suspension pipes were inside the nearside sill and couldn't be seen without dismantling the shields and asked him how many Citroën DS he'd actually tested (none actually). Well what is it then if it's not a brake pipe? Says he. Well, it's a metal tube that carries a cable from the rear anti-roll bar to the outer pair of headlamps, as part of the beams self levelling. He wasn't convinced until I actually had to start the car and bounce on the rear end so he could see the self levelling actuator move under the bonnet.

Needless to say I drove off with a clean sheet. I wish I'd kept that car. I swapped it for a CX2000 which was a right dog.

[John Mason]

Not quite the same thing but years ago when I was only 18 and we had to work half a day on Saturdays ( if you can remember those days. Bad news you are old like me.) I finished work on the lunchtime and went to the post office for a few stamps paying for them with a 10 Bob note (50 pence these days.) I collected my change and stamps and moved away from the counter to allow the next customer to be served. The post office was busy. I then realised that I had an awful lot of change to much change infact the woman assistant had given me change as if I had given her £1 note. I slightly raised my voice in order to be heard and said, “ I think you have given me the wrong change” The woman was most nasty and retorted back that I had moved away from the counter and any mistake could not be rectified. She carried on and in normal circumstances I would have been embarrassed and felt very small. I replied, “ Well I was going to tell you that you had given me change for a £1 and not 10 shillings but ok I understand what you say and left. I felt very smug with myself.

John Mason

[Chris KC]

I may be drifting off topic John but your tale puts me in mind of a business trip to Japan a couple of years back. Rather than use the hotel breakfast buffet I used to pop into a local department store on the way home each evening and buy fruit juice, yoghurt and croissants which I could munch in bed in the morning (the jet lag is a killer). On one occasion my total was 2 or 3 yen short of a note so I waved it off and set off back to the hotel. A hundred yards down the street a flustered shop assistant caught up with me, bowed and apologetically handed me my change totalling no more than a couple of pence. It was quite unthinkable to her that I should leave the shop without my change...

[Ray White]

I once took my 1930 Austin Swallow to a show where it attracted the attention of a guy who insisted that it had a wooden chassis. I tried to explain that it had a timber framed body mounted on a steel chassis...but he was having none of it. "It definitely has a wooden chassis" he insisted. Obviously concerned that I had missed something in 35 years of ownership, I asked him to show me. He pointed to the wood fillets between the wings and the bonnet. "There". he said. "it's got a wooden chassis.

I agreed with him that obviously he was right and thanked him for putting me right.

Off he went to bother someone else.

[Bob Culver]

Hi Ray
At car shows I have often been a bit critical of owners who sit about yarning amongst themselves. Bu having been on duty on a few occassions it is persons such as you describe which discourage much attempt at interaction.

[Ray White]

Hi Bob. To be fair, it is not so much those few who think they 'know it all' who wind me up as those who seem to think that the monetary value of my car is the most important thing. What it may or may not fetch is irrelevant to me; evidenced by the fact that I have looked after "Trundles " to the best of my ability since finding it in a neglected condition outside a junk shop in Wendover back in 1985. Trundles is not for sale.

[Reckless Rat]

I really don't like car shows. A part from the numpties from the silly question squad, you really daren't turn your back on the car for a minute or some daft parent will let their kid stand on the running board so they can gawp at it or an anorak will distract you while his mate tries to nick something removable from the car. I have even thought about wiring the car up to a current generator for an electric fence to stop them wiping their greasy hands all over it.

I hate people. I just like to drive my car. My run to Santiago was brill. 8 days of peace & quiet (apart from the din inside the car)

Bah Humbug!

[Ivor Hawkins]

I’m not a fan of car shows either Bruce, but I do like driving the old bangers to race meetings, hill climbs and the local car meets at the pub, where the numpties don’t tend to turn up.

But the best salesman story I had was about thirty years ago when I went to the local motor factors to pick up some parts and asked whether he may have an Austin Seven gasket set...he immediately asked what year and when I said 1936, he didn’t bat an eyelid and came back with a dusty Payen box...I asked how much and he said crikey it’s old stock, oh hang on it says 10/6 on the box, so what will that be in modern money...let’s call it 50p...result!

[Ray White]

I love that story, Ivor. Such a shame that most of those old fashioned stores have gone now.