We had a harrowing experience the other day. We ran into a bizarre new language. It sounded like English, but the words were all wrong, so it didn’t make sense. I think it must be a brand new hybrid, some sort of cross between “millennial” and “car dealer.” At any rate, it was rather confusing.
The Boss was looking for a used pickup. He found one online that looked good, so he called the dealership. The first person he talked to was perky, pleasant, and seemed to want to help. This is how it went, and remember this is word for word.
Boss: May I speak to someone in sales, please?
Person 1: Of course. May I have the pleasure of knowing who I am speaking to?
The Boss isn’t used to people speaking this way, but he figured it meant, “Who is this?” so he gave his name.
Person 1: Thank you. I can answer any of your questions.
Boss: Ok. What how many miles are on it, where did it come from and what kind of shape is it in?
Person 1: Those are all great questions. I’ll just put you in touch with my manager, and he will be able to help you.
Boss: Wait! What about price?
Person 1: Oh, price is no problem.
The Boss was ecstatic. Price is no problem. They’re going to give it to me free. But then Person 2 came on the line.
Person 2: May I have the pleasure of knowing who I am speaking to?
The Boss gave his name, but he was getting tired of the rigamarole, so he cut right to the chase. “I’m looking at this pickup. How many miles are on it, where did it come from and what kind of shape is it in?”
Person 2: Those are all great questions. I’m not certain about that, so I’ll just go out and physically touch the vehicle.
Touch the vehicle? Is he going to do the Vulcan mind meld like Mr. Spock? Can’t he just look at a piece of paper? The Boss said, “Never mind. I’ll drive up there and physically touch it myself.” So we did. We took a nice drive up to the big city, looked at the pickup and went to lunch. But we didn’t buy it. We couldn’t…we didn’t speak the language.