Eventually I got him to focus on the GS and we concluded a sale. He wanted only one extra, a tow-bar and hitch.
The first clue that something was amiss came when the customer said – with disdain – that the leather was not good enough.
The DS looked like a cork in a bottle, but a cork that also contained the parents, their several kids and a roof-rack of the family’s luggage.
He started the car, selected first gear, and a loud “CRUNCH” sound emanated from under the hood.
On that beautiful summer’s morning, I took a call from Sir Robert requesting I show him and his family a Citroën Safari. Definitely one of my best days selling Citröens.
Taken together, the many brands of Stellantis have great promise. The speed and relative ease with which Stellantis’ car plants across the world can now switch to building a model from a sister company miles away offers great flexibility to respond quickly to changing demands.
I encountered many unusual things when I sold Citroën cars in the early 1970s in England, but none more so than the GS sale I will never forget.
One of my more embarrassing moments in my auto sales career happened when I supplied a Citroën DS Familiale to the proprietor of one of the largest game bird farms (sport-shooting suppliers) in the UK.
An Admiral of the Royal Navy happened to see a 2CV pick-up in a dealer close by the Marines’ barracks. Intrigued by the vehicle’s low weight – he arranged to borrow and test the 2CV pick-up, with an eye to equipping military commandos with them.