Tales From the Crypt: The Dealer Kid

To be clear not all dealer kids are assholes. Some are exceptional. But for those in the industry, you may be familiar with the stereotypical dealer kid. That’s the son or daughter of an automotive dealer who has just a giant ego. So arrogant as to be intolerable. I can live with self-made types with huge egos. At least they’ve earned it. It’s still annoying, and they’re still assholes but at least they have walked the walk. The ones that really annoy me are the dealer kids. They were talented enough to inherit a dealership or take over from a parent. But that is the limit of their skill set. The parent has built a strong enough business to withstand even the worst incompetence, yet the offspring still think they’re the shit, so to speak. Arrogance is annoying at best; unjustified arrogance is downright intolerable.

I remember being recruited, quite aggressively, by a new car franchise when I was in my early thirties. I had worked for a competitor of the same brand and was ready for the next step. I had a few offers and was unsure what to do. The bottom line being I was offered double the money I was making to work for a competitor. It seemed like a solid opportunity. The General Manager had spent a great deal of time and effort painting me a picture of the future. “This is our current volume. This is what we need to get to. If you can take us there you can make this.” Spreadsheets. Lunches. Meetings at fancy hotels. It was something, and I was young. I was sold.

I was offered double the money I was making to work for a competitor.

I recall my first day being introduced around the dealership. The sales staff. The Managers. Finally, the dealer. The old guy that started it all. He reached out with a big smile, shot me his full name, “Hi! I’m so and so”. I don’t want to give his name because I don’t have the balls to out the dealer. Great guy. Welcomed me aboard, told me I would do great things. Big office. Golf clubs, I hate golf. Retired but hung around once in a while to stay interested. I was impressed.

Next thing, off to meet the heir apparent. The son. His office wasn’t quite as big and it was at another store. I was walked to his office door by the GM. A knock at the open door. A very light knock like the kind you make when you’re terrified of upsetting someone inside. The door was open. The man behind the desk was looking down at some paperwork on his desk. Having been in the business for another twenty-five years since, I can say with confidence that paperwork wasn’t very important. He wasn’t solving world hunger or anything like that. Without looking up from his important paperwork, he raised his hand in a stopping motion as if to say, 'freeze!' The Manager introducing me stopped in his tracks. Turned to me and told me to wait. One finger to his lips. “Wait a sec, he’s busy.” I was thinking to myself, that’s weird. What’s wrong with this guy?

I had the distinct pleasure of showing up for work on my last day in a Hawaiian shirt and shorts and quitting before I crossed the street for breakfast.

A few moments later, the dick raised his hand again and turned it, making a come over motion, still without even looking at us! What a dick. In my mind I was thinking, “who does this guy think he is?” Then he stands up, looks at me with a giant fake smile and puts out his hand. He introduces himself, “Welcome aboard! I’m a complete asshole.” I’m paraphrasing. He actually said his name. Then he immediately sat right back down and started doing his “paperwork” again as if to dismiss us. What an unbelievably big asshole. Inherited a dealership from his father and somehow that makes him some super stud or makes him better than everyone else. I lasted another week, but really that was the moment I knew I had to go. I had the distinct pleasure of showing up for work on my last day in a Hawaiian shirt and shorts and quitting before I crossed the street for breakfast. The GM even came over while I was eating asking what happened, why I was leaving. What I really wanted to say was, “How can you work for that fucking asshole?” but I was young and didn’t have the balls so all I said was it wasn’t a good fit and listened while I ate as he tried to change my mind.

Here’s the bottom line. If you inherited a dealership, then good for you. But there is no need to be an asshole. You didn’t start it from scratch, and if you did, you would probably have more humility. To be clear, I have met tons of dealers who inherited their businesses and are absolutely amazing people. Humble. Kind. Leaders. Mentors. But I’ve also met a few that are just assholes. If you work for one, then you should move on. If you are one, well… you’re an asshole but you probably already know that. Arrogance is like a bad fart. No matter what else you see or hear; the fancy suits, the expensive cars, or the plastic surgery, all you can smell is that fart. That’s just how it is. Good luck and good selling.

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