My one hundredth review and it is difficult to write this review because it has me wearing a big stamp on my forehead saying "SUCKER." I recently bought a new car from Pilson and violated some of the cardinal rules of making such a purchase. To begin with, I trusted a car salesman. He had all the tools of the trade: the "glad-hand," glibness, a supporting cast, promises, and deceptive figures. Next, I went in obviously wanting this car. It is always better to feign indifference to some degree to get them to sweeten the pot. Not I, I went in drooling. Figures were tossed at me that made it appear that the car would be mine for many thousands under factory inventory due to rebates, one trade in, and the prospect of yet another trade on another vehicle I owned. Delivery dates were mentioned and by the time I left with the signed deal, it seemed like the salesman and I were old friends. Did he lie? No. Just skillful manipulation of the truth . . . and of me. How could I be so gullible? Well, that is easy to answer: I was buying my first brand spanking new car, after a lifetime of "pre-owned" and demos, and a dream car for me. By the time the dust settled and I drove off the lot in my new set of wheels, it was all a lot different than when I left the dealership the first time. To begin with, the additional trade I counted on never materialized (Oh what a surprise!), so now I had to cover thousands of dollars that it would have saved me. Then the delivery date seemed like some elusive point in time that was always just out of reach. Next, the salesman, who seemed like my best friend before I signed on the dotted line, was always late answering emails and phone calls, if he answered them at all. Then, when my dream machine did arrive months later, I was passed off to the financial guy who added a litany of charges: destination, prep, sticking their name on the rear of my car (shouldn't I charge them for the advertising?), exterior protection treatment ("You don't want your new car to lose its luster, so you?"), interior protection treatment (ditto for the interior), warranties of all sorts ("We stand by our product but so much could go wrong with it that you should buy protection because it would otherwise cost you a small fortune to fix."), and removing the odor from the mechanic who farted in the car while getting it ready. Okay, that last one isn't true. The toxins from all the adhesives, treatments, and such provided the longed for new car smell. Anyway, this litany of additional expenses thrown at me in sales speak boosted the cost of the car to thousands over inventory instead of under. What should have been the wonderful experience of driving home a car with only two miles on the odometer was tainted. I felt duped, naïve, gullible, played, and with no one to blame but myself. I traveled an hour to this dealer because previous experience had led me to believe that they would take good care of me. Oh, they took care of me and likely had a good laugh at my expense. The guy with "SUCKER" stamped on his forehead. Next time I should wear a hat. read more