Cash Buyer vs. Loan Scam: I Went Off

When I ended the call, the salesperson in front of me had an extremely arrogant look on his face.

"Oh, you're even calling my boss by his name, huh? Quit the freaking act! I'll make it clear right now—until you pay the full amount, it'll be of no use even if you called God himself!"

He pulled out a sales contract he had prepared ahead of time from his folder, outlining the loan and payment terms. Then, he slammed it down hard on the table.

"Here you go. It's written in black and white—a five-year loan and an interest rate of 12%. Sign it, and you'll be able to drive off with the car right away."

I picked the contract up and scanned it briefly. Then, I tapped my finger on the loan repayment schedule on the final page.

The principal was 300 thousand dollars. Over five years, the interest alone added up to 180 thousand dollars—which was over half the principal amount.

"Five years of interest amounts to 180 thousand dollars."

I looked up at him, my voice frosty as I continued, "Your interest rate is almost like a loan shark's."

Upon hearing that, not only did the salesperson remain calm, but he also let out a mocking laugh, crossing his arms.

"Loan shark? What do you even know about the law? This is a proper contract—everything's laid out clearly and agreed to voluntarily. How is this anything like a loan shark's terms? We've been running this car dealership for years. Did you think that we're afraid of you taking us to court?"

He leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice. "Also, guess what? My boss isn't like just any other person in this city. Go ahead and sue us. Sue us all you want! I'd like to see which one of us can afford to drag it out."

He tilted his chin up, giving me a sidelong glance, as if he were certain his victory was guaranteed.

"The contract is right here. Are you going to sign it or not? Hurry up and decide."

All of a sudden, police sirens blared at the entrance. The salesperson's face fell instantly.

"You even called the cops?"

I turned to look out the door, completely ignoring him. A young police officer, Philip Warren, led his team into the showroom, scanning the entire place.

"What's going on? Who called the cops?" he asked.

I watched the salesperson calmly, not rushing to respond to Officer Warren.

He gritted his teeth, then put on an ingratiating look. "I'm sorry to trouble you with coming all the way here, Officer Warren! It's just a minor misunderstanding. This customer wanted to pick up his car, but the paperwork is incomplete. We were in the midst of negotiation—"

Officer Warren raised his hand, putting a stop to the salesperson's attempt to ingratiate himself. In a neutral manner, he asked, "What were you negotiating? Explain things clearly."

"Hear me out." The salesperson pointed at me with a completely helpless expression and said, "This man came and made a reservation for a car before, but he didn't sign a contract at the time to finalize the sale. Yet, he now insists on taking the car. He's putting us in a tight spot as well."

I finally spoke up, my voice calm. "Officer Warren, I paid 300 thousand dollars in cash and signed a contract in black and white.

"Now that the previous salesperson has resigned, this man is refusing to acknowledge the contract and is forcing me to pay more to cover the price difference. Otherwise, I have to sign a new contract for a five-year loan with an interest rate of 12%," I explained, pushing the brand-new contract forward.

Immediately, the salesperson complained, "Please investigate this fairly, Officer Warren! How could we, a well-established company, do such a thing?"