The Edmonton Motor Show was this weekend. While it is difficult to truly express how thrilling it was to walk through a giant auditorium that seemed to be little more than a used car lot filled with 5,000 people, there were, at least, a few highlights.
While I’ll talk more about some of the highlights and lowlights of the show later — and it must be pointed out that there were far more lowlights than highlights — there was one experience that must be shared.
At the center of the main room was an amazing display featuring some gorgeous cars.; there were multiple Aston Martins and Bentleys, immaculately detailed and displayed,
with a stunning pair of Spykers taking centre stage. Naturally they were cordoned off to keep the thousands of people from climbing in, around and through them. One does not let a careless three-year-old climb over one’s Spyker. When I talked to the presenters, however, and explained that I wanted some photos for Hooniverse, they were beyond fantastic. They talked me through the cars, opened the hood, tipped the front, demonstrated the racing suspension, gave me a brief history of the cars. Knowing full well neither I nor my audience would be buying one anytime soon, they were nonetheless enthusiastic and accommodating.
After that fantastic experience, I headed over to the booth from Ferrari and Maserati of Alberta, hoping to get some similar photos for you, my beloved co-Hoons.
When I attempted to converse with the salesprick they had manning the booth, he regarded me with a look of disdain that was designed solely to wither the average plebian under the crushing weight of his contempt. I am fortunate in that my ego tends to be somewhat excessive, so his powers were largely ineffective against me. While he made it quite clear that the few seconds I was managing to procure of his attention were certainly better spent on anyone other than myself, I ignored his clearly flawed belief and asked if I might be allowed beyond the 14-foot cordons to take a few photos of the Maserati interiors to share with Hooniverse.
He once again scoffed, and held out his hand. “I’m going to need to see your press pass and credentials.”
I was somewhat taken aback by this, since the Edmonton Motor Show was not handing out press passes. “For a photo?” I asked.
“Ferrari insists that I record the credentials for any journalists wanting to publicize photos of their products.”
“Ah, but I was asking about the Maseratis; I didn’t really care about the Ferraris.”
Again he scoffed. “Oh, of course you do. At any rate, without a press pass, I’ll have to ask you not to take any photos of the cars.”
This was while dozens of others were taking hundreds of photos all around us. Somewhat stunned, I repeated back to him, “You don’t want me taking photos of your cars?”
“That’s correct, not without any credentials.”
I couldn’t do anything but laugh and continue on. The conversation was clearly audible to everyone near us, and served no purpose but to make him look like an ass. I can only suspect that it was no coincidence that for the rest of the day, every time I looked, there were multiple fans clustered around the Aston/Bentley/Spyker booth, and none anywhere near the Ferrari/Maserati booth.
For myself, I don’t particularly care. I had plenty of photos and information from the Spyker booth, and let’s face it, the Ferraris are not exactly attractive cars anyhow. But the level of incompetence required for someone to think that alienating people who would potentially be singing your praises is somehow a good idea, well, that’s absolutely staggering.
What say you, Hoons? What’s your worst experience with elitist douchebags? Can you top my story? Open fire in the comments below.
Ferrari Dealership Proves Douchebag Ferraristi Stereotype
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22 responses to “Ferrari Dealership Proves Douchebag Ferraristi Stereotype”
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Is that a Corvette underneath all that
beautiful sheetmetalhorrifying plastic?
Anyway, you just made the Detroit auto show look even worse. There was 1 Ferrari there (a 599XX). There was nobody from Ferrari there to speak about the car. Except this “product specialist”.
Oh, wait. I don’t feel so bad for the Detroit show now. -
At leas there was someone from Ferrari there to talk about the cars. All we had at NAIAS was a booth babe.
Suddenly I realize the silliness of my statement.-
Ahh it's comments like that, that remind us that you'll never leave us.
We heart you too engineerd.
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I am going to say that I am with Hooniverse at every car show, and just see what happens. I bet I get beat up, chicks, free drinks, to meet Mr. T, beat up, and drive a Raptor. This Hooniverse life is the life for me.
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At the New York Auto Show last year I went up to get a picture of the Koenigsegg CCXR, and I was stopped by this huge, hulking, bald, neckless beast of a man in a pinstriped suit. His name was Vinnie, and he was every single Italian mobster stereotype distilled into weapons-grade strength. "Yoo wanna takah pictah?" he asked in a deep accent-heavy baritone voice that sounded like being smothered in a Brooklyn-style pizza inside a submarine. "Got summthin' I can contact yoo at?" I offered up one of my Daily Orange business cards as a peace offering; he took a glance at it and it disappeared somewhere into his suit. I felt really bad about that, too – I didn't have many of those left, and I knew the guy was just going to throw it in the trash where he kept the dismembered corpses of ex-mobsters that crossed him. At least the Aston Martin girl had pretended to be genuinely interested. He glared at me as he withdrew the velvet ropes. "If you're inn'rested, just give us a cwaul," he growled. Like a broke-ass college student is going to test-drive a $1.2 million dollar supercar anytime soon.
I did get some sweet pictures, though.-
Wait… He asked for your business card, and then tells you to give him a call?
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He had a sign with his company's contact info on it – not that he would have ever deigned to give me HIS own card.
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I'm pretty sure at this point Ferrari makes more money off of selling Hot Wheels, other die cast cars, t-shirts, and other "Officially Licensed" merchandise than they do actual car sales. In that case, maybe they should be nicer to the people that buy the stuff that makes the money.
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[typical blog comment]
If I had supercar money, you'd have a hard time convincing me to buy a new Ferrari.
Wouldn't you rather have something distinctive? Something interesting?
…not to mention that most of these supercars never see the track and really get used as grand tourers. Buy a proper GT (Aston, Bentley, etc) and run a Se7en on the track/canyons.
[/typical blog comment]-
Or just to go really typical internet, go with collecting the typical list of best cars ever (according to the internet) – E30, XJ Cherokee, P71 Crown Vic, and a V8olvo (maybe a Miata too). Which would actually be a pretty cool fleet.
Mind you, if I had supercar money, I'd still be working my way through 80's crapboxes I want before I'd eventually make my way to some Ferrari (308? 550? I'm not quite right).
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I'd love to go to a place like that and act like I'm a millionaire real-estate mogul and demand that they let me in. Maybe if you're a bigger ass than the guy holding the rope he'll step aside.
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Dear Salesprick'
I have seen soggy Wheat-a-bix exhibit more verve, more wit, more sparkle, more joi de vie than you even in your most animated moments. Basically, you are vile beyond belief. No more can I tolerate your fetid fantasies about your place in the world. There is no place for you in the world. Scientists have long speculated as to the possibility of a third force in the universe, one of repulsion. I know that third force to be you. You bilesome bigot, you brash bragadisme. Your mere existence has for me offered proof there is no God, no hope, no justice and the most miserable future for humankind. Let's briefly touch upon your sexual habits. Does your partner know what you get up to with the Vegemite and pork sausages? It really shouldn't surprise me that such things and such actions give you pleasure, but in an appalling way, it does. You have completely, enthusiastically, maniacally, with gusto and lip smacking delight, stovered any advancements made in the human condition over the last six million years. Congratulations. You must be so proud. Physically, mentally, socially, even aesthetically, you are quite simply disgusting. By now, it may be occurring to you that there is some purpose, some theme driving this letter. Can you guess what it is? I have heard people, when complaining about you, suggesting you are mentally orbiting some outer planet. Uranus comes to mind. I know you won't take what I have said personally, as that would imply a level of comprehension which you will clearly never attain. May you be damned to a hell where you must share a small room with your doppelganger for all eternity.
Sincerely,
POLAЯ
P.S. Can't wait to see you in Toronto, Ferrari!-
Dear Ferrari PR Parrot,
Your name has fallen on hard times. A goodwill tour is in order, and I would like to provide my services. If supplied with a car, I will rev the engine after a proper warm up when a crowd gathers in a parking lot. Though decisively, and far from slowly, I will operate politely and with signaling in traffic, always obeying proper lane discipline. I will give memorable thrill rides with no illusions of future thrill rides at my apartment. I will smile and wave, and wax enthusiastic with anyone interested in the car. At no point will I use red velvet ropes. I assure you this is possible. I will put up or shut up at 'run what you brung' nights while driving your creation daily, to show that a Ferrari can be a treasure that heightens the experience of any drive.
Even when you are stupid enough to ruin it with a paddle shift.
I eagerly anticipate your response,
– skitter -
For what it's worth, Chrysler's probably going to have a California – hopefully they won't stick us with Ferrari's salespeople.
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From what I recall the Ferrari-Maserati folks @ CAIS (or whatever its called) were pricks last year too. Very standoffish.
Whereas the charming, beautiful, and knowledgeable sales person from the Jag dealer opened up a new XJR in BRG so we could sit in it.-
Salesprics need to be reminded of what they are: sales people. They don't know how to make anything or do anything, just sit there and brown nose some rich guy. People that are going to buy a Ferrari made up their mind way before they even walked in the dealership.
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To a point.
I would argue that best sales persons have a commanding knowledge of their products, the competitive landscape., and how to marry these to the purchaser's needs as they build long term relationships.
But yes – many are not that good.
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So the Chicago Auto show is, like 30 minutes away from where I live, starting next week, less then $20 to get in. If I can weasel a nice camera from one of my non car nut friends, I will try to make it there. For I now have a goal to achieve, get behind the velvet ropes and get pics of it all. I pledge not to shame the Hooniverse name or any other car blog. Unless they deserve it. I really need a camera………
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after reading an enlightening article about the cars salesman trade (written at the dawn of altavista searches by an ex salesman), i reveled in going to test patience and cars at dealerships, laughing at their feeble tactics (that sell billions of dollars worth of financing, cars, and options)
they would usually call or email with better and better offers,
but since i have not lost a dime to depreciation in all my cars, I think I'll keep buying used (and spending depreciation money on repairs ) -
MY EYESSS! Cripes man, I just threw up in my mouth, twice. David Lee Roth's brother, Zeb? UGH.
And now to read the article. In plain text. -
It really bugs me how Fieros get so much hate when the 1986.5-88 Fiero GT fastback was actually quite a good looking car and was actually quite fun to drive. But yeah, that Coyote kit is one of the worst out there. Why anyone would buy it is beyond me.
-Plecostomus -
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