Dealer loyalty?
#51
12-31-2010, 10:04 AM
Tourer
Drove 50 miles past 2 other dealerships to buy my bike. Course the 2 I drove by are owned by the same people, both fairly large dealerships. I gave them a shot at it but they did not wanna deal. Back in August they had an 07 Ultra with close to 40,000 miles on it and kinda hogged up. Made them an offer and they refused to budge. Went on up the road 50 miles to another dealership, Waco HD, and they had an 07 Ultra with only 18000 miles and in nicer shape. Made the same offer and bingo we got a deal. Got the nicer bike for $1000 less then the other dealer wanted. Now, just went back to the local dealer the week before Christmas, guess what they had. Yup! the same bike is still there almost 4 months later????????
#52
12-31-2010, 10:43 AM
I'm not a "stuck in the past" type but with age comes perspective and what some of you guys put up with from Stealers would be funny if it wasn't so disturbing. It's more the Stealer’s fault but the amount of *** kissing and sucking up I see when someone enters a Harley dealership is almost like frightened rabbits looking to prospect.
Take the word substitution "stealer" for dealer. That didn't come into widespread use until the late 90s when the new biker boom, soon to be fueled by the new bike TV shows, had Harley dealers doing land office business. Most of you remember folks paying way over MSRP and sometimes waiting two years for a bike. And the dealers who jumped into the biz at that time are the ones who still carry that superiority complex today, even as their inventory sits and collects dust.
But instead of bringing back what made dealerships great (more on that later) dealers who realized the boom was over started self-promoting like crazy by sponsoring runs, making dealerships a destination for riders, and putting on things like ladies' night garage parties. My OL wanted to go to one of those ladies' garage nights so I tagged along (hey, there's ladies there!) and man, have you ever sat through one of the those time share pitches? It was pathetic but the worst part was the ladies were eating it up.
Before this time it should be said Harley dealerships were always a bit different (odd is a better word) compared to traditional car and motorcycles dealerships. And some were downright quirky. But the majority of them still had the old attitude of the customer came first but somehow they hit on just the right formula of doing so without appearing phony about it. Ask a stupid question or make a ridiculous request and you'd get the raised eyebrow, but you'd never get blown off.
When I think back on those days one dealership always comes to mind. There was nothing special about it, and I'm sure it was just like a lot of others at the time, but it was the one I frequented the most so I knew it well. It was the mid-1970s and this was Oceanside Harley Davidson in Southern California. It was run and staffed mainly by just three people. A husband, a wife, and a daughter.
The husband ran the service department (just called "the shop" in those days) while the wife sold the parts and the daughter handled sales. Every year the husband would take on a young apprentice to help out in the shop and what a lucky bastard that kid was. In a year he'd get a million dollar education in the repair, service, and modification of Harley Davidson motorcycles. And then the husband would tell him, "I can't teach you anything more, you're fired! Now go out and make something out of yourself." I knew more than a few of those kids who went on to become successful motorcycle shop independents. Can you imagine that today? The husband was actually creating his own competition!
From now on after everything I write you just say to yourself, “Can you imagine that today?” So I don’t have to keep on writing it, LOL!
They had regular business hours, but the husband always stayed late after closing to work in the shop. And I don’t know how many times I showed up there at eight or nine at night needing a part. I’d go around back and bang on the garage door. And he always opened it. And not just for me, but for anybody. He’d always grumble as he led me through the darkened dealership flipping on lights as he went. But he’d retrieve whatever part I needed and when I reached for my wallet he always said the same thing. “Come back tomorrow and pay when my wife is here.” One night I noticed he was hardtailing an almost new Harley while complaining about stupid jerks that forgo the engineering marvels of sprung bikes. But his workmanship was impeccable. When finished that bike would look like it came direct from the factory with a hardtail.
The wife, who I saw often during the day, would put most of the parts guys today to shame. She handled newbies and patcholders with equal respect and appreciation for their business. Sometimes she looked in the parts book but not often as she knew part numbers by heart. She also knew about guys customizing or outright building their own bikes. Tell her what you were trying to do and she’d find you, regardless of year, make, or model, something that would work, or something you could make work. And she’d always hand you some kind of homemade muffin after you paid. The blueberry ones were my favorite.
I often thought if I were to go into sales I would sell Harleys. When a potential customer walks into a car dealership he’s usually there out of necessity. He needs a car. He needs a car so he can go to work and feed his family. And as a car salesman you have to sell him on what you have or he’ll go somewhere else. At the Harley dealer when a potential customer walks in most of the time he’s already drooling, he’s got the hots, he’s already sold, and you just have to close him. And no one understood that better than the daughter.
I have to say, and as delicately as I can, she was a very homely looking girl. Today you’d call her a butterface. But, and this may be hard to understand, the way she carried herself, the knowledge she had about Harleys, and the way she treated everyone made her one of the most beautiful girls I ever knew. The first bike I bought there was a used ’69 FLH (for whopping 1100 bucks) and I left that day wanting to marry her.
The day the husband called it a career was a sad one as we watched that dealership close. (There’s a new one in Oceanside nowadays, but in the different part of town.) Now, I’m not saying some Harley dealerships aren’t still great, my local one in Glendale, CA is pretty good, but that’s compared to all the others, not compared to how I remember that one in the 1970s. Okay, maybe I am stuck in the past . . .
Take the word substitution "stealer" for dealer. That didn't come into widespread use until the late 90s when the new biker boom, soon to be fueled by the new bike TV shows, had Harley dealers doing land office business. Most of you remember folks paying way over MSRP and sometimes waiting two years for a bike. And the dealers who jumped into the biz at that time are the ones who still carry that superiority complex today, even as their inventory sits and collects dust.
But instead of bringing back what made dealerships great (more on that later) dealers who realized the boom was over started self-promoting like crazy by sponsoring runs, making dealerships a destination for riders, and putting on things like ladies' night garage parties. My OL wanted to go to one of those ladies' garage nights so I tagged along (hey, there's ladies there!) and man, have you ever sat through one of the those time share pitches? It was pathetic but the worst part was the ladies were eating it up.
Before this time it should be said Harley dealerships were always a bit different (odd is a better word) compared to traditional car and motorcycles dealerships. And some were downright quirky. But the majority of them still had the old attitude of the customer came first but somehow they hit on just the right formula of doing so without appearing phony about it. Ask a stupid question or make a ridiculous request and you'd get the raised eyebrow, but you'd never get blown off.
When I think back on those days one dealership always comes to mind. There was nothing special about it, and I'm sure it was just like a lot of others at the time, but it was the one I frequented the most so I knew it well. It was the mid-1970s and this was Oceanside Harley Davidson in Southern California. It was run and staffed mainly by just three people. A husband, a wife, and a daughter.
The husband ran the service department (just called "the shop" in those days) while the wife sold the parts and the daughter handled sales. Every year the husband would take on a young apprentice to help out in the shop and what a lucky bastard that kid was. In a year he'd get a million dollar education in the repair, service, and modification of Harley Davidson motorcycles. And then the husband would tell him, "I can't teach you anything more, you're fired! Now go out and make something out of yourself." I knew more than a few of those kids who went on to become successful motorcycle shop independents. Can you imagine that today? The husband was actually creating his own competition!
From now on after everything I write you just say to yourself, “Can you imagine that today?” So I don’t have to keep on writing it, LOL!
They had regular business hours, but the husband always stayed late after closing to work in the shop. And I don’t know how many times I showed up there at eight or nine at night needing a part. I’d go around back and bang on the garage door. And he always opened it. And not just for me, but for anybody. He’d always grumble as he led me through the darkened dealership flipping on lights as he went. But he’d retrieve whatever part I needed and when I reached for my wallet he always said the same thing. “Come back tomorrow and pay when my wife is here.” One night I noticed he was hardtailing an almost new Harley while complaining about stupid jerks that forgo the engineering marvels of sprung bikes. But his workmanship was impeccable. When finished that bike would look like it came direct from the factory with a hardtail.
The wife, who I saw often during the day, would put most of the parts guys today to shame. She handled newbies and patcholders with equal respect and appreciation for their business. Sometimes she looked in the parts book but not often as she knew part numbers by heart. She also knew about guys customizing or outright building their own bikes. Tell her what you were trying to do and she’d find you, regardless of year, make, or model, something that would work, or something you could make work. And she’d always hand you some kind of homemade muffin after you paid. The blueberry ones were my favorite.
I often thought if I were to go into sales I would sell Harleys. When a potential customer walks into a car dealership he’s usually there out of necessity. He needs a car. He needs a car so he can go to work and feed his family. And as a car salesman you have to sell him on what you have or he’ll go somewhere else. At the Harley dealer when a potential customer walks in most of the time he’s already drooling, he’s got the hots, he’s already sold, and you just have to close him. And no one understood that better than the daughter.
I have to say, and as delicately as I can, she was a very homely looking girl. Today you’d call her a butterface. But, and this may be hard to understand, the way she carried herself, the knowledge she had about Harleys, and the way she treated everyone made her one of the most beautiful girls I ever knew. The first bike I bought there was a used ’69 FLH (for whopping 1100 bucks) and I left that day wanting to marry her.
The day the husband called it a career was a sad one as we watched that dealership close. (There’s a new one in Oceanside nowadays, but in the different part of town.) Now, I’m not saying some Harley dealerships aren’t still great, my local one in Glendale, CA is pretty good, but that’s compared to all the others, not compared to how I remember that one in the 1970s. Okay, maybe I am stuck in the past . . .
Last edited by NickD; 01-01-2011 at 05:44 AM.
#53
12-31-2010, 10:46 AM
I purchased 2 bikes from a dealer about an hour and a half North of Calgary. Gasoline Alley HD. Excellent service, good people and they throw some great partys for loyal customers ( lotsa freebies). We even get some free chrome now and then on Birthdays. They know there are 2 dealers in our city that we could go to but they know we don't, so they always treat my wife and I special when we come in. Sometimes loyalty pays off.
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