Get with the program

I hate used car salesmen. I hate, hate, hate them. They are the bain of existance, in the same league as lawyers and politicians.

So, I'm in the market for a truck. I know what I want to pay, and I know what the average Kelly Blue Book says, so I'm thinking, piece of cake right?

Wrong.

I am a woman. I obviously don't know jack about how to buy a car, except, someone forgot to inform me of this information. Seriously, I don't want to have to take my father or my brother or my husband along just to get somebody to listen to me. Don't try to steer me to some bling, bling or a cute little SUV that looks like a shoe box on wheels. I want to look at the quad cab, right there, yeah, the red one. I want four-wheel drive and a winch on the front. Got K-C lights? Even better. I want that broken seat adjuster fixed and I want someone to look at that ping in the engine too. I'm not sitting here all day while you go talk to your manager about my money either. This is my price, sell me that truck or not just tell me now befor I waste my afternoon filling out stupid paper work. I don't care that you give out free coffee and chocolate let's talk warranty. Yeah, on second thought maybe you should go get your boss...