It's New Car Day
Dad's time to shine like a diamond
As a 50 year old father of two in 2026 there are few moments left where I can still prove that I am the ruler of my domain. That I have instincts to be revered and advice to be heeded. Few fleeting instances where my wisdom shines forth across my progeny and I can act all Mustafa-y saying, “everything the light touches is yours, my children.” So when I get the chance to flex my remaining virility I jump at the opportunity. Lucky for me, I know exactly when that will happen and therefore mark it on my calendar as a personal holy day. Welcome to new car lease day, prepare for battle.
My father in law (a wise patriarch in his own right), has worked in the auto business his entire adult life and also happens to be of hearty Italian descent. These two factors have mixed in him to create a category 6 hurricane (yes 6) of negotiation skills that when unleashed on an unsuspecting associate leave nothing but the tattered remains of a once proud salesman in its wake. He has gifted me, the husband of his only daughter, the secrets of his prowess and, lord, so strike me down, I will not disappoint you Bob Silvester. So it is with this charge, this holy crusade, that I walk into Honda of New Rochelle once every 35 months to wage a holy war of bargaining that my thousands of years of Jewish ancestors look down upon and smile. I can almost hear them whispering through the ages. “He has the gift” “You see, he is actually Jewish.” “Ethel, pass the mustard this Corned Beef is dry.”
Just as Samson had his hair and Obi Wan had the force. Just as Clooney has his incredible jaw line, all my power derives from one thing. The dealer’s desperation. Like blood in the water, once I sense it I know the entire car dealer system is skewed dramatically in my favor. They need you to buy. Like instagram begging you keep using the app, like the liquor companies making candy flavored vodka, like the Minotaur’s maze, they will stop at nothing to keep you from walking out the door. And today I will use that fact, exploit it, and run with it like a steroid fueled Olympic hurdler. I step through the glass doors with insane confidence, MJ’s lyrics in my head. “Your butt is mine, gon’ tell you right. Just show your face in broad daylight… And the whole world has to answer right now, just to tell you once again. Who’s bad?” If I could spin and grab my crotch right there on the showroom floor without getting arrested I most certainly would.
I am not a haggler elsewhere in life. In fact, I am overly generous when I shouldn’t be maybe trying to push back on any cultural stereotypes a server might have. But in this place that is out to rip me off I am Gary Kasparov playing my calculated opening gambit. “Hi, I’m looking for a 2026 Honda Odyssey. I’ve leased four from you already. I have my 3-year-old one with me today and it’s way under milage, you guys would want that car right?” Knight to rook four. I can see drool pooling in my associate, Rosario’s mouth. He thinks he’s gonna get paid on two ends today. He’ll get the trade in and the new sale. Steak dinner tonight baby! Except he doesn’t know I’m about to rake him over the very coals that he’s laid out with his avarice. He tells me his starting price and I smile. “Here’s the thing, my trade-in is actually worth this, and I can buy it from Honda for this, that’s 8k in equity, but you want it, so let’s use that price to start knocking down the price of my new lease. I’m gonna need you to actually give me a number significantly under my current monthly, with nothing down except tax, title and first month. I know that’s crazy, and I know you need to talk to your manager, but let’s just start here. $421 is my number.”
He must think I’m high. “That’s insane,” his face says. And to me that’s like the smell of fresh baked cookies when you come in from the cold. This is going to taste so good. Because what I do next is the best part. I calmly pull out my credit card and place it softly, ever so softly, on his desk. “I am ready to do this right now if we can get to a good price.” Thankfully I don’t have any friends who use heroin, but I can only think that the look in Rosario’s eyes when he sees my Delta Amex is what it must look like when a fresh baggie shows up at the drug den. He wants it sooo bad. As he scampers off to speak to his manager with my ludicrous asking price, I start a NYT crossword on my phone. Will I finish this Saturday puzzle before I have a new car? I hope not, but I’m ready to wait if that’s what it takes. Like a suburban auto Buddha I sit patiently, breathing circularly, ready for Rosario to achieve his inevitable enlightenment.
He comes back confident. “Well, here’s what we CAN do. $492 with 3k down.” His price is sitting between Nowheresville and Fucknotown. I calmly let him know we are miles apart. I am kind, calm, calculating, and quietly sure of myself. An assassin. “Thanks for your time.” Then I do the meanest thing I can do. I pick up my card and go to put it back in my wallet. “Wait” he says. And that’s it. Game, set, match. I have him dead to rights. Sure we’ll go back and forth a few more times, but it’s all over but the crying. His price will come down and down until we are so close he’s literally begging me to take his offer. I stick to $441, he’s pleading for $450. That’s when I unleash my final salvo. “It’s only 9 dollars. You’re gonna let me walk for 9 dollars?” He knows he’s lost. Don’t worry, I won’t tell your family or friends. Hey, you’re getting a sale and a sweet trade in. Sure your profit margin is so thin that if this wasn’t the end of the month you’d lose money on the car, but you’ll get your incentive and that will make up for the Seth Jacobs ice bath you just took.
Do I feel bad? I do not. Like I said above, there are scant few moments in this modern life where a dad can truly win anymore. Getting this new minivan at this price is my World Series and I’m old Kirk Gibson limping around the bases after hitting an improbable series clinching dinger. The Honda manager, my real nemesis, finally steps out of his glass palace to just catch a glimpse of me. He shakes my hand and asks if I would consider an over priced cargo mat. I have the picture already on my phone that says it costs $150 less than he’s offering it for, but tell him I’ll buy it at half his price but still more than I could get for it elsewhere. We, these two ronin samurai nod, he is tired, and has many, more fruitful battles to fight. I have a family full of fatherly adoration and maybe some freshly baked cookies to return home to. Yummy.
