I went to buy a truck and made the mistake of taking my at the time boyfriend with me. I was appalled and pissed how they kept addressing him about the purchase. It had nothing to do with him. I was the one putting down the payment, arranging payment, selecting the vehicle, paying the insurance, the one with the score in the 700s and the money to pay for it, NOT him. He wasn’t even my husband. And yet, every single salesperson completely ignored me in order to talk to him about MY purchase. I didn’t have a D*, so I didn’t have the right frequency to speak on apparently. I went to one lot where they went out of their way to show me everything BUT the truck I wanted. When I first approached this particular dealership, I explained what I wanted and asked if they had anything like it on the lot. Misled, they began parading everything and anything I might have an interest in. Everything BUT what I asked for. My needs were simple. I wanted a Chevy. I wanted a truck. And, minimum, it needed to be a v6. At one point, the salesman, MAN, tried to tell me a v6 was the same as a 4-cylinder. Gee, really? Is it? Then he dared to say the thing I predicted at least one idiot would utter that day. And when he did, I did what I said I would do. “Honey, are you sure you don’t just want a car?” Implying a woman shouldn’t drive let alone own a truck. I thanked him for “wasting my fucking time,” spun on my heal, and left. I did buy a truck, but not from that sexist asshole.

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Technophobe Who Codes | UX Generalist | Freelance Writer | Egalitarian-Feminist | True-Crime/Forensics Enthusiast

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