Did he mention a religious affiliation?

I was just reading an online article titled something like “Tips Every 18-Year Old Should Know.” It consisted of reader-submitted pearls of wisdom from those who’ve been knocked around by life to those who have yet to be. Why was I, a thirty-cough-something-cough guy reading tips intended for 18-year olds? Well, let’s just say it never hurts to brush up.

Anyway, one of the tips was this:

34) If you get into a business deal with someone who goes to unusual lengths to convince you of how honest or Christian they are, watch your wallet and make sure you have an iron clad contract. They “doth protest too much.”

This one jumped out at me, and not just because of its awkward wording. It actually reminded me of a story that happened to me about 15-16 years ago. Let’s look back in time a bit, shall we? Doodle-ooo… doodle-ooo… doodle-ooo… doodle-ooo…

I was living in Tuscaloosa, AL (Roll Tide!), and had been working at a radio station for about two years. I’d just been offered a job at an advertising agency in Birmingham, which was about an hour away. It was a very exciting move that —unbeknownst to me at the time — would begin my long and illustrious career in the ad business. There was a hitch in the plan though. My new job in Birmingham was due to start in two weeks, but my apartment lease in Tuscaloosa still had a couple months remaining on it. After much internal debate, I decided the grand plan was to wait out my lease in Tuscaloosa and commute to work in Birmingham, until which time I could find an apartment there. Unfortunately, solving the housing problem brought up another one: my car. It was in no condition to make an hour commute (each way) every day. It was a 14-year old Chevy Cavalier with well over 150,000 miles and a whole host of problems. The only thing “cavalier” about it was its attitude toward running. What I needed was new transportation.

Since I was finally making the big advertising bucks ($18,000 a year!), I figured I could afford a sweet new ride. My mind was swimming with possibilities: Porsche? Lexus? Land Rover? After doing a little research, I quickly learned that Nissan, Honda or Toyota might be more my speed. Maybe even Hyundai or Kia. I started hitting the car dealerships.

The first one I approached was a Nissan dealership in Tuscaloosa. Let me paint the scene: I rolled up to the building in my ancient, faded Cavalier. It was the mid-90s, so the Grunge look was in, and I was totally rockin’ it: long hair, ratty flannel shirt, ripped up jeans, the whole deal.

I was probably around 23-24 years old, but looked about 17. Yep, when they saw me pull in, they thought to themselves, “big spender.” They sent out their top guy.

He walked up to me while I was checking out window stickers, and asked if he could help me. I can’t remember the conversation verbatim, but it went a little something like this:

How can I help you today? My name is Randall.* I’m a CHRISTIAN. As a CHRISTIAN, I’ll make sure to treat you fairly. Because for a CHRISTIAN like me, it’s important to do right by the people in the community. I don’t want people from my CHRISTIAN congregation hearing that I treated someone unfairly or dishonestly. Did I mention I’m a CHRISTIAN?”

He must’ve stated in some form or fashion that he was a Christian fifty times in about three minutes. I thought it was odd, but I was in the south. Anyway, I explained my situation, and he was very quick to agree that a new car was my only solution.

I told him I was looking for something cheap, yet inexpensive. But it still needed to be reliable and befitting a man of my status. He had just the vehicle. A base-model Nissan Sentra. He suggested, nay insisted, that we take it for a test drive.

We got in the car, and proceeded to tool around T-town. Soon into the drive, he suggested I try out the awesome factory-installed AM-FM stereo cassette player. And what do you know? It just so happened he had a cassette with him! He asked if I minded hearing some Christian music. As you know, anyone can say he loves the Lord, but only someone who’s really serious carries around His music. He then proceeded to put in the cassette, and crank up the volume on some sweet, down-home, southern-fried, hand-clappin’ gospel music. At least that’s what I think it was, because it was the most poorly recorded, distortion-heavy cassette I think I’ve ever heard. It was all mid-range and treble, and there was no bass whatsoever. My guess was that he’d bought a handheld tape recorder from Radio Shack^®, went to a church, and stood in the back and recorded the choir as they sang. At least that’s what it sounded like to me as the screechy cacophony painfully assaulted my eardrums.

Over the ear-piercingly loud choruses of “Hallelujah” and “Amen,” he started preaching to me about the features of the car. I don’t remember any of them in particular, but since it was the lowest-end, base model Sentra made, they probably consisted of things like “round wheels,” “left and right turn signals” and “see-through glass.” Whatever the features were, he was putting the hard sell on me.

His sales approach in the car was nothing compared to the high-pressure tactics he employed after we got back to the dealership. He used every stereotypical ploy you’ve ever seen or heard of. He went and “talked to his manager.” He told me he’d throw in lots of valuable extras – like floor mats. Practically in tears he stated he’d lowered the price so much that he’d be losing money. (He just needed to get the car off the lot!) He mentioned a few more times that he was a Christian. I wasn’t planning on buying that day, and certainly not the very first car at which I Iooked, so I remained strong. He did, however, talk me into filling out the paper work, in case I changed my mind. That way I could just call him back, and he could get everything started over the phone. I may have been young, but I wasn’t completely stupid. I filled out the paper work, but didn’t actually sign or date anything. I also received multiple assurances he would most definitely not run my credit until I told him it was okay to do so.

I practically had to feign a medical emergency to get out the door, but I finally did and went home.

Later on that evening, I was sitting at home, watching Barney Miller or Airwolf or whatever I watched in the 90s. Then the phone rang. You kids remember before Caller ID? Okay, most of you probably don’t. But basically, when the phone rang back then, you didn’t know who it was. You just had to pick it up and hope for the best. I answered, and guess who it was? Randall! I figured he was calling to work a little more magic and try to get me in the car. I’ve always heard that if you walk out of the dealership without buying, they’ll call you back later with a price lower than the rock-bottom price they couldn’t reduce earlier. That was not my reason for walking out, yet I wasn’t surprised to see it happening.

Yet I was mistaken. He was trying to work some magic all right, but not that kind. He didn’t mention anything about the car, but rather asked if I was doing anything that evening. I thought it was kind of a strange question and it caught me off guard, so I answered. I told him I didn’t have any plans and would probably just relax and enjoy a quiet night at home (read: “I’m broke as a joke and can’t afford to leave the apartment”). That’s when I learned the true reason for his call. Randall proceeded to tell me that he’d found me really attractive, and was hoping we could go out later and “see where it leads.” His plan was to meet out and have some drinks, and then wind up at either my place or his at the end of the evening. He was pretty clear about it. When I immediately started replying that I wasn’t interested and that was not really my thing, he then threw in that he’d be meeting up with a girlfriend of his that evening too. She was smokin’ hot and a threesome was not out of the question. I wondered if she was one of his parishioners? I politely but firmly declined any and all offers, but much like he was at the car dealership, he did not readily take no for answer. I finally had to cut him off and tell him “no, I am NOT interested. Good day, Sir” — and then hang up.

Now my problem with Randall was not that he liked to play for both teams. That’s not the point of the story. What confused and confounded me about the whole situation was the way he stressed over and over (and over and over) how honest and moral he was, and yet did nothing but lie and pressure and coerce while at his job. He stressed again and again that he was honest and a good, God-fearing Christian, but it was clearly to lull me into a false sense of trust and security while he did things like pull my personal information from business forms in order to contact me at home and try and pressure me into sex. And my main question is this: did his “Christian” approach actually work on others? Did customers before (and after) me hear his spiel and think, “oh, he’s a Christian. He must be, because he said so. I’m safe as a kitten. Hey Randall — let me just give you all my sensitive financial information since that’ll be easier and I know I can trust you?”

I also found out later that even though he promised he wouldn’t, he ran my credit. An honest Christian, indeed.

*His real name has been changed to protect his anonymity. Plus I don’t remember what it was.

Advertisement