Faye is looking out for me and so is Steve. They have recently been joined in the hunt by a second Steve.
They are dead keen to help because I've got money to burn, or at least they think I have.
Faye, Steve and Steve are car dealers and I am in the market for a new car, or a "new" car in the sense of it being second-hand, and second-hand in the sense of it not being on the verge of falling apart. I am not fussy about previous ownership, but would prefer non-gang membership.
The process of buying a car used to be straight-forward until the internet arrived. If there is one thing worse than a lack of consumer choice, it is too much choice.
In the good old days, a prospective car buyer popped down to WH Smith, bought a copy of Auto Trader, had a cup of tea and a digestive biscuit and weighed up the options on the oil-stained local forecourts.
Then there was the trip to the dealer, which was less than inspiring but the absence of choice made the task considerably easier. It was usually a case of making a selection between the big one ("Absolute luxury, sir") or the smaller one ("Previous owner was a retired Nobel Peace Prize winner"). The colour options centred on blue, red, orange, white and Great British brown. The concept of "spec" didn't really exist and was restricted to whether the windows were manually wound down or flapped out in the back.
Today, the notion of online car buying has opened up new markets for the inquisitive. It is possible to spend entire days looking for a car without leaving your computer screen.
I drive a Saab. Owners tend to remain brand loyal and I have been clicking through the manufacturer's available cars - not just in Birmingham, or the West Midlands, but everywhere. My list of website favourites now features all Saab dealers in Western Europe. A 9-3 Sports Saloon 1.9TiD is unable to arrive at a dealership in Spitsbergen or Athens without me knowing about it.
I am thinking of widening the search. I reckon there are some Eastern European bargains out there, probably in Kazakhstan, low mileages convertible with full leather. All the toys.
I bought our last car without having seen it. How stupid is that? This is a man who takes quarter of an hour to select bananas in a supermarket and yet I was happy to part with several thousand pounds without clapping eyes on the object of my automotive desire. A bloke drove up in the car from Dorset, gave me the keys, wished me luck, took the keys to my old car and drove off in it.
Now I'm back in the market once again. But what is the point in limiting my choice to Saab? I fancy forbidden fruit: I fancy a Beemer.
I know, everyone's got a BMW. Yardies, estate agents, dole cheats. KPMG give them away to trainees. But I've loved them since the 70s and I love that little blue, white and black badge and I've never had one and it's just not fair. I've only driven one once, a low-powered 3 Series in the 1980s, and it was rubbish. It didn't put me off.
So I've been calling Faye, Steve and Steve. Even though I'm on the breadline as far as the BMW income profile is concerned, I'm in with a shout. And Faye sounds so helpful.