The car salesman there gave me the heebie jeebies, and he started the song and dance I hated. I am not sure if it was his spray tan, the food crumbs on his shirt (he had been eating almonds when we drove up) or what, but something didn't set right. Dad probably thought I was near certifiably insane. The guy went from "no where possible" to "we can get it where you want it" in about 4 minutes after supposedly talking to his manager.
I would not give him my info when he asked. I know they have to track that they actually talk to people, but I told him I didn't want him calling me later, so he couldn't have my name.
We were going to give him a chance, but I told Dad I wanted him to see an actual Jeep Grand Cherokee that I was interested in. We went to the closest dealership (Dallas Dodge), and I found "Honey" (I had to nickname it on my phone app - the name is due to the color).