My dad worked for Ford, which meant loyalty, discounts and no haggling with the dealer. It should have been a done deal. But I walked away from the test drive focused on one mundane detail: the volume knob on the radio. It wasn't sensitive enough, and resulted in the music being too quiet to hear or too loud to talk over. It had no in between. Whatever story Ford was trying to tell I was only hearing the poor engineering of their radio.

We did give Ford a second chance, but that time the dealer told the wrong story. The test drive seemed OK, but nothing exciting. No problem, the dealer said, we can try the bigger engine. Turned out the dealer had it wrong—we were in the car with the peppy engine. Oops.

Next we went to Mazda, which is owned by Ford, so my dad's discount still applied. Plus Mazda had some college graduate discount, plus they had a no-interest financing deal. They were practically giving us the car.

And while I didn't find a useless volume knob to be annoyed with, I didn't find anything to get excited about. The only thing that made me smile was the price. They may sing "Zoom, Zoom, Zoom" in the commercials, but all I heard on the test drive was "ho-hum."

On a whim we stopped at a Volkswagen dealer half an hour before they closed. We asked about a test drive and the dealer laughed. He couldn't possibly fit one in before close, since the whole process takes about an hour. Come back tomorrow. Why would a test drive take an hour?

The next day we found out. We spent half an hour just standing in the parking lot as the dealer walked us around the car, opening every door and compartment, showing us every nook and cranny—basically showing off the German engineering. There was the hood-release latch that popped out so you didn't have to fish around for it. The—heaven to murgatroid—full size spare tire. The trunk hinges located outside the actual trunk so you didn't lose cargo space. The anti-lock brakes and endless airbags that came standard. And to top it all off, the cool switchblade-style key.

We were drooling before we even started the car. Then came the actual test drive.

"Punch it!" the salesman yelled. "Go! Go! Go!" And I did. I dropped the pedal to the floor, felt the acceleration, watched the RPMs rise, heard the engine purr. This was driving.

The VW dealer told a story of a well-designed and fun to drive car. And the car backed him up. That story was powerful enough to overcome the several thousand dollars more we'd be paying, both in sticker price and interest rate.

What story are you telling? The story comes across in everything from how you act during a sales pitch—sitting back and relaxed or fully engaged—to the finest details of your product (remember the volume knob?). And the story has to be true—what happens when your customer pushes the gas pedal?

Don't simply sell a service or pitch a product. Tell a story. And we can help you tell that story, finding just the right words to connect with your customers.