"Let's make a (new car) deal!"

When thinking about experiential marketing, many things come to mind.  Shoe shopping in Bergdorf Goodman, cosmetics shopping in Sephora, and even apartment “shopping” after I moved to Austin.  However, the one experience that is standing out as particularly meaningful is my recent car buying experience.

The experience started last July in Manhattan.  It was humid, hot and stinky.  For those who haven’t experienced it, New York City has a distinct odor about it in July; I came to refer to it as “Garbage Smell.”  Car shopping was a task that presented mixed emotions - I was excited to be taking on the next phase of my life - grad school in Texas required wheels for the first time in years, but I was dreading negotiating – especially when it was gross outside and all I wanted to do was cuddle with my air conditioner.  I think subconsciously too, I was dreading the experience because I was sad to leave New York.

The experience began on a whim. I was walking down 11^th Avenue in mid-town (where all the dealerships live) and decided to stop in – probably more for the few moments of cool fresh air rather than a real intent to purchase.  I knew a car was in my imminent future, but I hadn’t really done my homework.  I went first to an Acura dealership.  Being a single woman walking into a car dealership is really amazing.  There were probably three men in suits standing around and, no joke, they kind of looked like this:

  It actually took them a minute to approach me.  I could almost see the thought bubbles over their heads, “she must be meeting her husband” and “she’s probably picking up her car from the service department.”  Nevertheless, one cautiously approached me (I half expected him to call me “sweetie”) and asked if he could offer his services.  I told him basically what I was looking for - at that time it was something a few years old, low mileage, an automatic, that I was intending to pay cash, and that I didn’t want to spend over $15,000. 

He toured me around the showroom, schmoozing me and attempting to persuade me to lease something way over my budget, but I remained strong and got good at saying “no thank you.”  We finally ended up in the basement of the dealership (car dealerships in the city have distinct spatial environments – there is no outdoor lot, so the cars live on different floors within the building).  We finally came to a car I could actually see myself in – it was a 2009 black Nissan Rogue with leather interior and a sun-roof.  As much as I tried to hide it (yes, my poker face is terrible), the dealer could tell I was interested in the car despite the fact that it was well over my budget, and he invited me upstairs to his office to talk.  And this is where the fun began.  He talked about the features of the car, Nissan’s reliability, and blah blah blah for about ten minutes and then… are you ready for it?   He took out a post it note, slyly wrote down a number, and coolly slid it across the table without a word.  I really did start laughing.  How old school was this guy?  Did he really think I was going to fall for the post-it slide?  Ha!  Needless to say, I took a peek at the number he wrote (which was approximately $200 less than the $22,990 sticker price on the car – thanks for the bargain buddy!) and again said “no thank you” and walked out.

            While I did leave empty handed that day, that experience directly preceded another – the experience where I actually did wind up with a car.  Because I now had an interest in the Nissan Rogue, I began to do my homework.  What I found (and what ultimately led to a successful purchase) can be explained as attempts at experiential marketing.

            Armed with a new interest in the Rogue, I began to pay attention to TV ads for the car.  The one airing at the time was definitely ACT marketing.  It had a catchy tune and featured the lines, “Hello bikes and backpacks, aloha surfboards and skis…”  The commercial then went on to demonstrate the ways the seat could fold down to “handle whatever life throws at it…”  The ad appealed to me because it was portraying the lifestyle I was attempting to capture with my new car – an active one.  Even the name, “Rogue,” conveyed what I was hoping for – unpredictability and abandon.  The TV ad can also be classified as SENSE marketing; it used vibrant music, was shot in bright sunlight, and featured beautiful beach and mountain scenes.  

            The following weekend, I walked a little further down 11^th Avenue and this time went into a Nissan dealership.  Car dealerships anywhere can be considered a case study in SENSE marketing – the lights are so bright that the chrome on the vehicles is almost blinding, each vehicle is polished to perfection, and everyone knows about “new car smell.”  I think they actually manufacture it and pump it in to dealerships.  What happened next though was very different from my first dealership experience – a young man in causal clothing came over asking if he could help.  We talked for a while about what I was looking for, he showed me some vehicles, and then I walked away.  There was no heavy sales pitch, no negotiating, and definitely no post-its sliding across desks. 

The importance of salespeople in customer relations was shouting loud and clear to me in this experience.  Even if I had liked the first car I saw, I probably would not have purchased from that smarmy post-it salesman.  I did however (after a few more trips back to the dealership) end up purchasing from this second non-aggressive salesman.  And low and behold, I actually ended up purchasing – with no prompting from the salesman - a new vehicle that was over my initial budget. 

During the many visits it took to complete the transaction, this young dealer and I became friendly.  I finally asked him why he hadn’t pressured me that first day.  He told me he could tell I wasn’t ready to buy, and he knew that if he proceeded with caution I’d be back.  He was right.  I also asked him what he thought of me, a single female, negotiating and purchasing a car without the assistance of a man.  He looked at me, puzzled, and asked why it should matter.  I think that’s another thing that made this particular salesman a good one – I felt respected throughout the process.  I never felt like he was trying to pull a fast one on me, and I never felt pressure to hand over money before I was ready.

            In the end, the experience turned out to be a positive one.  I wound up with a car I love at what I think was a great price (the act of negotiating is an entirely separate blog post!), and more importantly my experience with the Nissan brand and it’s representatives was impactful.  I have since referred others to that same dealership, and word-of-mouth is an important measure of experiential satisfaction.  

Here is a picture of what my lovely car looks like, I call her Sara (ha ha, get it?).