My parents keep telling me a story about the time they went to get a minivan (circa 1987). My dad, a successful doctor, (it's important later) and my mom, heavily pregnant with my younger brother, get dressed up in their raggediest, most disheveled-looking clothes they could find, and took their two screaming toddlers (that would be my brother and I, aged 3 and 18 months at the time) to the dealership with them.
From what they tell me, the look on the salesman's face was one of horror and 'I really don't want to talk to these people.' After absolutely convincing this poor salesman about the plight of their situation and that they absolutely cannot afford anything higher than their price (significantly below sticker), the salesman graciously offers them a generous financing plan, making a point to note the low, low amount they would have paid if they could only have paid today (his fatal mistake). The financing plan is how they were going to make their profit, for those who are confused. Dad pulls out a calculator, does some calculations, and agrees, while mother looks despondent about how they are going to come up with the money to pay for this.
Then, the second the papers are signed and the deal is sealed, RIGHT before they are about to drive off the lot, Dad calmly tells the salesman that he's a doctor, pulls out his checkbook and writes a check. The salesman looked like he was going to cry.
