"P" is for "Pircher"

Hold your bladder. It's time to P with the A-Z Challenge!

My theme revolves around the soon-to-be published memoir I wrote for opera singer, Donald Braswell.

"P" is for "Pircher"

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In yesterday's post, Jeannie Pircher, one of Donald's long-term customers told him something that completed the musical miracle that began only two weeks earlier at Donald's Jaguar dealership...

Want to know what the Something is?
REVIVAL: The Donald Braswell Story comes out  Nov. 3, 2015

Today, let me take you back about four years, to when Donald first met Jeannie...

Donald is training at his new job, at the Jaguar dealership. Still ten days out from working the sales floor, he notices a lady browsing the lot. When none of the other sales reps make the effort to talk to her, Donald asks, and receives, permission from his new boss, Tom, to introduce himself.
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“Okay, listen. More than likely, yeah, she’s just looking,” said Tom. “Go out there, introduce yourself, chat with her, and if she has any specific questions, bring her in here. I’ll walk you through whatever we need to."

Grabbing my jacket, I use a shoulder to push open one of the glass showroom doors. My momentum locks the door open, but the movement catches the lady’s attention. She stops and turns to look in my direction. I wave and quickly eat up the distance.

“Hello ma’am, I’m Donald Braswell. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Donald you say?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Jeannie Pircher. Nice to meet you.”

“Thanks for making it out here today, Ms. Pircher. I saw–”

“Please, call me Jeannie.”

“Thanks, Jeannie. Is there anything I can help you with?

“Yes, I want to buy a Jaguar.”

“Let me ask you a question. Is there a particular model you’re interested in?”

“I want a sporty S-type, with every available option. And it’s got to be white with the sports wheel package.”

“Oh.”

Her direct approach cuts off my ability to talk in more than one syllable sentences.

“Okay.”

“I don’t want to drive one off the lot. I’m ordering mine from scratch. I want the seats to have a certain type of leather. I’ve done my homework. I know the car I want, and that’s it.”

“Jeannie, may I be perfectly honest with you?”

She nods, her blue eyes holding a trace of a smile.

“I’ve been in the business for several years, but I’m brand new at this dealership. If you have a moment, I’ll introduce you to one of the certified salesmen, or even the general manager.

“Sweetheart, you look like a nice person, but I already know a great deal about these cars. C’mon.” She takes my arm and leads me toward the still-open front door of the dealership.

“Why don’t we go sit in your office, Donald, then you can pull out the spec book. Not only can I teach you about the car, but as you take my order for the S-Type, I can show you how the book works.”
As calm as I can, I guide and welcome Jeannie to my spartan office, thankful I hung at least some pictures and random décor over the last few days. The latest item, my Juilliard degree, went up minutes before she arrived. Sitting opposite me, Jeannie soon notices my diploma.

“Yours?”

I nod at the usual question.

“Yeah, but from a different time in my life.”

“I can only imagine. Were you an instrumentalist of some sort?”

“No, no, I was an opera singer, but I’m not doing that anymore. It’s a long story.” I smile and root around, looking for the right spec book. There it is, on the ground. I heft it up on the table, tear off the cellophane and open it at the contents page.

“Well, I’m impressed, I know it’s very hard to get into Juilliard,” said Jeannie, who  switches gears.

“Okay, so let’s take a look at this spec book.”

For the next thirty minutes, she walks me through the ordering process. I listen and learn how they build Jaguars and many of the customer options. There’s supposed to be an official order form, but I can’t find it, of course. Instead, I scribble notes as fast as I can just to keep up.

“Okay, let me verify these notes and make sure I have all I need, according to your order.” She nods as I run down the list of requirements.

“I think it’s time to run everything by the general manager.”

“Go right ahead.”

As I open Tom's door, my hands shake a little. This is unbelievable. I'm not even done with training, yet I've found a "live one." Oh my God...

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Tomorrow: Q is for "Quality, not quantity"