I mentioned in my last blog post that Bob and I had been car shopping. I think that is responsible for my recent gain of a few pounds. I can’t blame it on the stress of shopping or on the fact that we were running around too much to eat properly. I blame it on Nissan – in particular on a salesman at a local Nissan dealership.
We had been scouting out the different compact SUVs and were interested in Nissan’s version, the Murano. A young salesman took us out on the lot. He was noticeably wet behind the ears. He pointed to a Quest and said, “This might be what you’re looking for.”
“Uh, I think that’s a minivan,” I said.
“Oh, you’re right. Sorry. This is the one you want to see,” he said as he aimed us toward a Murano. “Yes, this is the Milano; it’s a great little vehicle.”
He opened it up for us and let us sit inside of it. He showed us the engine and told us all about it. “The Milano will give you a smooth ride and, of course, the Milano gets great gas mileage. We sell a lot of Milanos.”
Finally I couldn’t take it any longer and said, “You should probably know that this vehicle is a Murano, not a Milano. A Milano is a cookie made by Pepperidge Farm.”
He was quite embarrassed but that didn’t stop him from continuing to refer to the car as a Milano. Not once did he use the proper name. Between that and realizing he didn’t know the difference between a minivan and an SUV, we were out of there.
Question: If a car bears the name of a cookie, even in your mind, does that mean it could be a crummy car? Probably not, but it’s pretty bad when car shopping puts not-so-subliminal messages in your mind that make you binge on cookies.