Posts Tagged ‘sales’

And Then She Went

November 21, 2017

And got a car.

Holy shit.

I did it.

Not without a bit of hand holding.

Thank fucking god for my friend who came with me.

Just having another person there was super helpful and I didn’t feel quite as overwhelmed as I think I might have had I gone alone.



It was hella nice that I had a female sales person.

The person who I had been working with to set up the deal ended up being out sick and I got another sales associate, and she was super sweet, very accommodating, and really helpful.

I had really already done the majority of the work, so it was just signing the papers, coordinating with my insurance company and doing the test drive.

I was nervous about driving the car, I won’t lie, I haven’t driven a stick shift in a while.

But it was just like riding a bike.

I had no problems using the stick.


That’s right bitches, I got a manual transmission.

Which is one of the reasons the car was on sale and that was fine with me, I know most folks like an automatic, but this lady learned on a stick and I love the control I have in the car versus driving an automatic.

I learned on a Ford Diesel station wagon how to drive stick.

My mom taught me.

It was horrendous.

Let me make no bones about it.

She was not the right person to teach me and getting screamed at while stalling out the car at the four-way stop intersection in Windsor Wisconsin is a trauma I may well never forget, she did, however, eventually teach me how to do it.

Or she at least installed the fundamentals.

I actually feel like it was my Uncle Jeff who taught me how to drive.

My mom was bitching about my inability to get the mechanics of it at a Thanksgiving dinner with family and my uncle piped up and said, “I’ll teach her.”

And like that we were getting bundled up in coats and out the door.

I remember there was snow on the roads, and they were a little slippery, but we were not anywhere close to any other cars, and it was Thanksgiving, most folks were not getting in their cars to go anywhere, most folks were still digesting their food and watching the Packers play Detroit and wondering if they might be able to sneak a sliver more of pumpkin pie in their bellies without exploding.

I remember the truck cab was really cold and the  stick was huge, he had an old Ford.

He told me my mom was too worried about me ruining her car to relax, he didn’t give a fuck if I hit something or killed it, it was an old truck, he was fine with me beating on it.

And in that moment I felt a huge burden fall off my shoulders and I could breathe again.

He also explained a bit better to me the feeling of what the clutch did underneath my left foot when the truck wanted to shift into another gear and I could feel it much better underneath the big clutch on his car and the much smaller one on my mom’s.

I started it, popped it into first, shifted into second, got it up to speed in third, managed to not slip on any ice or snow and we drove around for a while.

I had a great big grin on my face.

I got it!

It made sense, I could feel it and sure enough, the next time I took out my mom’s car I was able to do it and I’ve been successfully driving a stick ever since.

My first car I bought on my own, with money from detassling corn four summers in a row at Kaltenberg Seed Farms–I had gotten a bonus for perfect attendance, was a Honda Civic, stick shift.

Then after that car died, it really went quick and I didn’t have the money to fix it, I got my first car in a relationship in my early twenties.

We went in halfsies on an old Jetta that was a stick.

I really loved that car.

It died soon after my boyfriend and I broke up, but for three years it was a great little car and I think we only paid $500 for it.

And when the Jetta died my boss at the Angelic Brewing Company sold me his car, a two door Honda Accord that I had for three years, also a stick shift, when he upgraded to an SUV, which were just beginning to get a lot of attention.

All the cars I have owned have been manual!

But this.


Is my first brand new car!

I have never spent more money on a car.

The Honda Civic in high school was $500 used, the Jetta $500, the Honda Accord my boss sold me I think I paid $1200 for.

This time my car cost $12,000.

But seriously.

A new car for $12,000 is fantastic.

I, of course, did not pay the full sticker price, no way I could have.

I put $2,000 down and my car payments are going to be $186 a month.

l also pre-paid for six months of car insurance.

I just felt better doing that and I’m going to have to pay it and then I left myself room with my money, I didn’t spend the entire $5,000 I pulled from savings, nope, I gave myself a year’s worth of back up payments with that money, in case anything happens, I’ve got a year of payments stacked.

I don’t have to make my initial payment after this until January and when I do I will pay more than the $186.

I do want to pay it off faster than the loan terms, which would stretch out for six years.

But I also don’t want to hurt myself by throwing all my liquid cash at the car.

Which was nice.

I had some left over to take my darling friend out to lunch on Shattuck Avenue.

And where we parked made all the hairs on my head tingle.

We were directly across from the hotel that I stayed at when I first traveled to Berkeley to meet up with a friend and get myself reappointed with the Bay Area.

It’s not a hotel anymore, but I recognized the building and it felt so amazing and synchronic and auspicious.

Lucky, you know?

I could never have imagined the life that I created out here in San Francisco when I was sitting in that hotel room on the phone with my friend from Wisconsin trying to tell her that I had found where I wanted to be and that I was going to move to San Francisco, in fact, I was seriously considering not coming home and just leaving my entire life in Madison to die.

My friend convinced me to come home, to finish my degree, to give it another year, um, especially since we had just signed a lease on a 2 bedroom apartment, and I said I would, but I was moving to San Francisco as soon as I graduated.

And 15 years after I donated my car, my little two door Honda Accord, to the Goodwill on South Van Ness I got to drive my brand new Fiat Pop 500 home to my little studio by the sea.

Pretty fucking amazing.


I found parking.






Sunday Slacking

September 29, 2014

I know.

I know.

I deserve a down day once in a while.

But when I don’t have much to report I do wonder what to write about.

I am always of the assumption that no one is too interested in my napping, soup making, and laundry doing, or marketing.

I mean.

These things need to happen and they did so in a sense I did not sit around on my ass all day long eating Cheetos and watching movies.  I meditated and I rode my bicycle and I shopped and I cooked and yeah, I napped.

That feels actually like an accomplishment.

Especially since I did do a lot of running around yesterday.

Not included in my break down of yesterdays comings and goings was the fact that I also went to three different scooter and motorcycle shops in the Mission/SOMA area.

SF Moto.

Mister Scooter.

Scuderia West.

I have officially decided to sell my scooter and upgrade to an automatic.

No more kick starting for me.

I cannot afford to have another ankle injury.

That being said I am a little flummoxed as to how I am going to sell the Vespa.

How do I sell something that I am afraid to start to demonstrate to a potential buyer that it works.

And it does work.

The only problem is that my ankle does not work.


I had thought, perhaps the best idea would be to take the scooter to one of the aforementioned shops and have them appraise it and then see if I can trade it in for something that works better for me.

I got some information.


SF Moto.

Your staff was not cool to me.

I was ignored for a good long while and when I was finally spoken to, the guy was a dick.

Condescending, assumptive, and rude.

I ended up cutting the conversation short, thanking him for his time, and leaving the store.

I know that one negative experience does not a store make, but I don’t have any desire to go back and chance the repeating of it.

Plus the store didn’t really carry that many scooters I was interested in.

The next stop was Mister Scooter on Mission and 14th.

The guy was sweet, but he didn’t think he could do a trade that would work for him and the shop and I didn’t think he had anything in the shop that was suitable for me.

On to Scuderia West.

Where I was treated, far and away, the best, respectfully, immediately approached, and honestly dealt with.

I showed the guy who stopped to speak with me a photograph of my scooter and he told me, “don’t trade it in, you won’t get what you deserve for it, sell it privately, then come back and buy a new scooter.”

“And don’t tell my boss I said that,” he looked around, “he’d kill me, but really, you deserve to get better and I don’t think he’ll give you what you can get for the scooter.”

Good to know.

Plus, the shop had some cute offerings and I was impressed that I could do financing and even set something up with the shop before I sold the Vespa.

Although I am not certain that is the route to go either.

I don’t want to have two scooters on hand.

I do, however, want a scooter that works for me.

I feel like I am in a bit of a conundrum, but that if I just put it out to the Universe, something will shift.

Who doesn’t want a 1965 vintage Vespa in great running condition and with low miles?

I mean, I still want it, for fuck’s sake.

I am really bummed that I can’t ride it anymore.

Really bummed.

I am thinking that one thing I could do is offer it privately to my friends on my social media networks.

For friends and family I will ask exactly what I paid for it (still paying for it, I have $750 left to go) $2650.

For anyone else, I think I’ll start at $3,000.

Then if I get someone who wants to offer me a little less I am able to negotiate a little without losing money on it.


My friend sold it to me at a huge discount.

He paid $4,000 for it and then still dropped a new engine into it.

Then, there’s the thought, maybe I could get that kind of money out of it.

But, I’m not interested in trying to flip my scooter.

I am just interested in getting a scooter that works for me and making room for it by letting go the Vespa.

If I don’t find someone to buy it I will trade it in.

I am going to give myself until December.

I’ll have it fully paid off by then.

My friend asked that I pay $200 a month to him to cover it and I have been paying $250, so I’m knocking it down faster than he asked and I can consider it an investment in money.

I didn’t have $2650 to buy a scooter.

When I sell the Vespa, I will.

I can got to a shop and buy something new.

I am also considering going to Vespa of San Francisco and seeing about getting a new Vespa with them.

I won’t have as much toward a new Vespa as I would towards a used or the Kymco’s I have seen that I like, but I will have a big chunk and I can finance the rest and have a new Vespa for my birthday in December.

Then pay it off within a year.

It’ll be nice to have something to ride to work that is not my bicycle, though, it’s doing the deal for right now and I have no complaints about it, and something for when I am in graduate school.

I cannot see being in the intensive all day long and then riding my bicycle home from it.

I would probably fall over in exhaustion riding the Wiggle to the Pan Handle and that’d be all she wrote.

A scooter is in my future.

A scooter is in my present.

I re-phrase.

A scooter that I can ride with a bum ankle is in my future.

Zipping on down the road.

I can just see her around the bend.

Do they make Vespa’s that glitter?

You’re Glowing

June 30, 2012

“Your eyes are all dewy and gorgeous.”



It’s just topical ointment.

The eyes are just about healed.  I toyed with the idea of putting on a little bit of the make up this morning, but I got busy trying to manage my musical library.  Not a good idea before going to work.  I went from having oodles of time to looking up and having fifteen minutes left to get to work.

Good thing it’s a five-minute bike ride.

One more day of goop on the eyes and then I should be clear to go.  Back to the land of play make up. I miss my colors.  But I have had some nice compliments on my complexion, which makes me wonder if I should stop washing my face altogether.

I don’t think I could handle it though, I feel dirty and slightly greasy and my face is starting to break out a little from the ointment.  Not awful bad, but I don’t want to hatch a batch of pimples right now.

Isn’t nature great?

Grey hair and pimples.

You have to love it.

Apparently I am looking sexy on the FaceBook post on our work website, my picture still gets some comments.  Ok, people really, yes I am single, but no I am not interested in the silver fox, that’s the nicest way I can think to put it grandpa, in Michigan.

Or the guy in Houston.

What is it about distance that suddenly makes people bold?  Get them right up close and they lose their steam.  Oh, I still get flirted with, just no propositions coming my way at the moment.

Then again it was so busy today that I don’t think I could have flirted if I had wanted to.

I do think I missed my opportunity when I was yelling at the accountant.

I wasn’t actually yelling at the accountant.  He is an über meek, soft-spoken man, he’s so soft-spoken I have to turn off the stereo speakers when he talks to me and hush everyone around me.

He is, however, pushy via e-mail.

Where do you get the strength to yell at me via e-mail dude?  Your vocals cords all rested?

I hollered at my work e-mail when I opened it.  Five e-mails from him and a wad of invoices to do.  I just blurted out, “well, fuck you.”

Then I laughed, I am just doing the best I can.  If I get to it, I get to it.

I told my GM I am doing my best.  My best.

My best ain’t too bad.  I am now dubbing myself the double mint twin.

I am the only person who has done this not once, not twice, more than three, keep going, but four times.


I have done double bike designs.  I freaking did two this week!  I have done two couples at the same time.

Ooh.  That sounds scandalous.

I have done bike designs simultaneously with two couples.  Then I have designed two bikes for one person, twice.

Today, a gentleman bought himself a bike and his house guest one, no one in particular, just you know, I want a nice bike around for my house guests to enjoy when they are visiting.

Can I be your house guest?

My house guests get a cup of tea.

My co-worker joked about the business needing to get me out of invoicing, so I can just focus on selling bikes.  I was brought on to be the office person, do administrative work, file shit, pay bills, keep things organized.

I do that, oh yes I do, nobody else does.


However, I also sell the pants off of bikes.

Yeah, I know that metaphor doesn’t quite work, you get my point.

I am still rather shocked that I am a good sales person.  I have no idea why.  I suppose it doesn’t matter, I just am.

I wonder what else I should sell?

Perhaps I should have been doing sales all along.  Who knows?  Not like I would have found out.  I have always looked down on sales people.

Not very nice of me I know.

I should know better than to snub something.  I end up doing the damn thing.


I wonder what else I have said I would never do?  It would be a sort of handy list to see where I will be adventuring to next.

I am sort of in the hallway.

Damn, this fucker has been long.

I know my next adventure is in Paris.  I have no clue how it will all manifest.  But that it will.

Can I say, slight sidebar, that it is a little disconcerting to express to some one on a dating website that you are just going to up and move to Paris with no plan.

People sort of wig out at that.

Either I get the that is amazing or I get the, you are sort of crazy and I don’t think I am interested in going out with you.

Unless said person is a geriatric from the MidWest.

I should not have to leave the United States to get a date.

Granted, I know San Francisco is an odd amalgam of dating experiences, but sometimes I do wonder how it is that people actually couple up here.

Eh, who cares.  I have more important things to think about.

Like what will I wear tomorrow to match my make up?  I fell asleep listening to music and fantasizing about wearing high heels and dancing around in the fog.  Then this morning came and all that sexy energy dissipated in the morning shroud of fog and I just slipped on the Converse and left my face bare.

And the boy wasn’t where I was hoping he would be.

Ok, so I am slightly obsessed with some one.  All on the down low.  Some one I have had some interest in off in and on for a few months now.

I told Beth tonight that I just have to pull the trigger and say something.  Kill the fantasy.  I was hoping to do that tonight.  But he was nowhere to be seen.

Probably got lost in the fog.

Too bad, I was glowing and all.




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