What Buying a New Car Taught Me About Bad Salespeople

There’s losing a sale, and there’s working to lose one. Today I watched the second kind.

Sarah walked into a VW dealership in Naperville ready to sign on the ID 4. Weeks of research. Mind made up. Wallet open. Her seven-year-old Ellie came with us. An hour and a half later we walked out without buying anything.

And every move that salesperson made was a move I keep hearing on filmmaker discovery calls.

The first guy met us at the door. Friendly enough. But inside ninety seconds it was clear he didn’t know the car. I asked about the range. Blank stare. Asked about charging options. Blank stare. Asked about the trim packages. “A colleague has one, I’ll get him.” Off he went to find someone who actually worked there.

Filmmaker version: showing up to a discovery call without researching the company, the brand, the recent campaigns. “So tell me about your business…” You just signaled you’re not worth their time.

The swap happened. New guy. More confident, more polished. He pulled us over to a demo unit and started talking.

He didn’t ask a single question about us. Didn’t ask what we drove. Didn’t ask what we were comparing the car against. Didn’t ask what mattered most to Sarah. Just launched into the script.

He told us how quiet electric cars are. He actually said, and I’m quoting: “I have to be honest, they’re so quiet it’s an issue for some people.” I drive a Tesla. He never asked. If he had, he would’ve known the entire next twenty minutes of his pitch, regenerative braking, range anxiety, the EV starter pack: wasted breath. He could have been adding actual value, comparing the ID 4 against the Tesla we already own. Instead he was talking at us about things we knew before he was hired.

Filmmaker version: explaining what video can do, why story matters, your three-phase process to a marketing director who’s hired production crews every quarter for ten years. They don’t need the education. They need to know why you.

Then he tried to start the car. It wouldn’t turn on. Poked at the screen, tried the door, tried the key, nothing. Shrugged. “Sometimes these do this.” No diagnostic. No apology. No follow-up.

Filmmaker version: client asks a hard question, turnaround, deliverables, usage rights, and you say “uh, I’ll have to get back to you.” Trust just took a hit you can’t see.

I asked about the Memorial Day special. He said “I think so.” Then, in the same breath, tried fake exclusivity. “But only at this location. Just today.”

Filmmaker version: “I have another project next week so I can only hold this rate till Friday.” Fake scarcity from a position of need. Clients smell it instantly.

The whole time, he was stalling. Talking about his kids. Talking about his weight. Telling us how German engineering could handle his weight if he hung off the door, but others couldn’t. It got a little weird. Then he started reading news articles to us, out loud, about gas prices. We never said gas prices were why we were there. We never asked. He was just filling time with whatever was in his head.

Filmmaker version: the client asked one specific question and you’ve been talking for nine minutes. You’re not connecting. You’re stalling. because you don’t know what to ask next.

An hour in, Ellie was done. She walked out to the parking lot. I went after her, then came back in and told the salesperson she was ready to go and we needed to move things along.

His response was not empathy. It was, “Do you want to just come back another time?”

After an hour of his script, zero updates on what he was actually doing or how much longer it would take, his answer to a kid being restless was to invite us to start over.

Filmmaker version: client tells you the deadline got moved up. You respond by suggesting you push the timeline. You’re solving for your convenience, not their problem.

Sarah came in ready to sign. We walked out without buying.

I’m not telling you this because it’s a funny dealership story. I’m telling you because I sit on filmmaker discovery calls every single week, and the script he was running today is the same script I keep hearing on yours.

Here’s the hard truth about sales blind spots: you can’t see them. That’s what makes them blind spots. You think the call went great. You think you connected. You think the proposal you’re about to send is going to land.

Then it doesn’t. And you blame the budget. Or the timing. Or the client.

I’ve heard the recordings. Nine times out of ten, the client walked in ready to buy, and you walked them right out.

The salesperson today wasn’t reading the room. He was running a script, the same script he probably runs on every customer who walks through the door. Almost none of it landed because almost none of it was for us. Zero awareness. Zero recovery. Just a memorized play running on autopilot.

That’s the exact pattern.

Key Insight: The Yes Call (Or Why Your Proposal Becomes An Invoice)

We just opened the next cohort of the $50K Yes Method, and today was a perfect case study for what we teach inside.

There are five yeses between a stranger and a $50K project: your Page, your Email, your Call, your Proposal, your Lead Gen. Each one earns the next. Skip a yes and the next stage collapses.

The Yes Call is where most filmmakers die.

The Yes Call has one job: earn enough trust, clarity, and insight that the client is already nodding by the time the proposal lands. When the call works, the proposal isn’t a quote. It’s a confirmation. of what you already agreed to. A Yes Proposal.

When the call doesn’t work, the proposal becomes an invoice. A number with no story. A list of deliverables with no anchor. And the client either ghosts you or grinds you on price.

A Yes Call earns three things, in this order:

1. The yes to “you see me.” I researched. I get your world.

2. The yes to “you hear me.” I’m tracking what you actually said, not what I planned to say.

3. The yes to “you value me.” This is about your outcome, not my quota.

Get those three yeses on the call, and the proposal you send is a foregone conclusion. Miss them, and you’re not sending a proposal. You’re sending an invoice. Invoices get negotiated. Proposals get signed.

Right before we left, the salesperson told us he was going to bring in the head of the dealership.

I leaned over to Ellie and said quietly, “Watch out. They’re going to try everything to get us to buy today. But they haven’t really listened to us. So there’s no way we’re doing that.”

We walked out. Sarah went and test drove the Hyundai Ioniq 5 instead, which might end up being the actual sale. Though that salesperson was three times worse than the first guy. So we’ll see.

The client comes in warm. The work is yours to lose.

Until next week, keep moving, keep questioning, keep choosing who you’re becoming.

• Patrick