Overqualified: Toyota: Marketing.


To: Toyota
Re: Marketing.

Dear Toyota,

I am writing for a job in your marketing department, and I hope that you will take a moment to review my attached resume. I have been selling used cars for the past fifteen years, and over that time I have discovered a few tried and true selling techniques for reaching certain demographics.

I hope that I am not out of line by speaking my mind here, but let me be frank. Automotive technology has reached the point where - at the consumer level - it doesn't matter what's under the hood anymore. All that today's consumer cares about, functionality wise, is that it gets them from point a to point b. Aside from that, they want a car that's individual. Look at the new models of cars you've been shipping out recently. The Matrix and The Prius are idiotic looking, but people are buying them to have a car that they feel is distinct.

People want to believe that their car is special, individual. When I was working the lot at the used car place, we used to keep a car out back and we would shove dead pigeons under the hood. Dead pigeons, man. That car was waiting for the perfect customer, a little old lady with a wicker purse. We convinced her the car ate pigeons. She was thrilled. We sold haunted cars, cursed cars. We sold cars that made you lucky in love. We sold cars that famous people had spat on.

A series of marketing campaigns, all aimed wildly into the demographic shooting barrel. Campaigns running in the middle of the night, claiming that when the Garden Estate Slasher was captured, he had a dead hooker in his trunk and we just rolled that shit back out on the lot without cleaning it. Somewhere, we'll say, is the Camry we emptied all of them hookers out of. Somewhere is a Camry that mister bigshot movie star got blown in. Somewhere there's a Camry that is also a time machine. There is a Camry that can bring your children back to you. People want to feel like they're picking their car, Toyota, they don't want to feel like we're picking them.

People want something special. They want the house with the broken cellar stair and the windtunnel that swings the doors open and closed like it's haunted. They want the neighbourhood where the race riots first started. They want to feel like they're a part of something bigger and stronger and they want to be able to tell their children they are participating in history, not just standing off to the side. This is the house where Marie Curie died. I drink at the bar where where Hoover used to go dancing. This is the Camry they found all those hookers in. We're going to live forever, kids. We're a part of the story, now.

Joey Comeau