I’ve Been A Naughty, Naughty Customer
What a dirty, shameful week it has been.
Where else to be better experience that than at my local car dealership?
The dealership where, just a couple of years ago we bought a new car.
Nothing too fancy. Just enough buttons to keep it fun and get the family safely around town.
My sweet little car turned two a few months ago and sadly, like a toddler, it has turned mildly terrible.
No problem, the car is still under warranty, right?
Tell that to The Dealership of Shame.
I started with that little piece on the rear wiper that has fallen off.
“Can’t replace that,” the service rep said.
“Because it’s missing,” he said with a straight face.
“If it wasn’t missing, I wouldn’t need it replaced,” I replied stating the obvious. “Parts shouldn’t fall off two-year old cars.”
That stumped him enough to consult with his supervisor. He came back, looked around, as if to make sure no one could hear what he was about to ask me.
“Have you,” he paused…
“Have I what?” I asked wondering if he was going to suggest I was hosting wild parties on the back hatch.
“Have you taken your car through… a car wash?” he cast his eyes downward as the sinful words left his mouth.
“Uh, yeah?” I said, unsure of where this could possibly be going, knowing that while I do take my car to a car wash, not nearly often enough.
Just ask my neighbors.
“These things always fall off in a car wash,” he stated.
“Okay, well, I expect your company would make a car you could take through a car wash a couple times a year?”
He shrugged his shoulders.
“How about the sunroof, then?” I moved on hoping he could fix the motor that was running slower than mud.
Again, with the head shake of shame.
Oh, boy, here we go.
“Ever park under a tree?”
“Under a tree? Uh, yes. Have you looked around this city? It’s a city of trees.”
“Yeah, that’s a problem. Because you’ve parked under a tree, we can no longer honor the warranty.”
“Funny, the sales guy never mentioned that when he was trying to up-sell me this model with a sunroof,” I said. “So, what can I do to maintain it, since I’m now on my own?” I asked.
It’s the best.
“You can take it to a car wash and ask them to pressure wash the tracks,” he said with an absolute straight face.
It’s possible you’ve faced this, too, Dear Reader.
A company’s version of customer service is to label you a naughty, naughty consumer for simply using their product.
Nice try, Car Company.
I’m not buying it.
And by not buying it, I really mean not buying.
Husband’s car due to be replaced in next year or so.
I can promise you, we will not be back.
Washing our hands.
Make that a naughty pressure car wash under a tree.