After months of back and forth with the dealership I finally got my Ten Year Old Kia setup for its recall repair. They’d sent me a scary letter back in November telling me there was a chance the car could burst into flame, even if its turned off, so I shouldn’t park it indoors or near small children or pets. If I’m driving it and I smell smoke, I should pull over and high tail it into a bomb shelter because things are going to go boom.
I’d arranged an 8am appointment on the day I get a haircut, so that I could get that done and then get dropped off at the dealership at 9:30 since they’d assured me this would only take about an hour.
I swung by the afternoon before to drop off the keys. The guy didn’t seem to know what recall I was coming in for so I handed him the scary letter as I’d done multiple times through the whole struggle of trying to get this appointment and getting the parts from Korea which apparently must be delivered by hand via an unmanned inflatable raft.
The counter guy told me about another recall, this one for anti-theft. I told him as long as it was here, to run the whole recall shebang through it and get it all taken care of. Trouble was if they did the anti-theft recall my remote car start wouldn’t work, and it would cost me $125 to get it back. I didn’t like the idea of me paying for their mistake so I passed understanding the tremendous risk of the highly sought after 10 year old very basic car living its life in the streets.
“Okay, I’ll be back in the morning to pick it up.” I cheerfully said.
“Oh no, no. It was only going to be ready by then if you were waiting for it. Now we won’t start it until your appointment.”
I’m not making one word of this up.
I looked around. The shop was empty, the bay was empty, the waiting lot had one car in it— mine. There was a guy sitting on a stool in the repair bay like he was waiting outside of Floyd’s Barbershop hoping Aunt Bee would come by with a pie.
Behind him was a rack where they hung all the keys for the cars in for service. That was empty.
“But my appointment is for 8am. If the repair takes ‘only about an hour’ then we should be good to go by 9:30, right?”
“Right, but that’s only if you’re waiting for it. If you’re dropping it off we don’t start the repair until your appointment.”
“Are you hearing your own words? Am I missing something?”
The guy smiled, I smiled back. I didn’t have the time or the inclination to get into this. I left and he said he’d text me when it was ready.
Next morning I got my haircut as scheduled, as luck would have it, my ride wasn’t available so I drove myself. When I got back home at 9:30 my phone alerted me to a text— the Kia was ready.
I drove back out- it was a beautiful morning- and a nice chance to put the top down on the MX-5. I pulled into the dealership and my car sat alone, the guy on the stool was still in place, still no pie. The service manager came out, shook my hand and handed me my keys.
He seemed pretty happy with the day. Car was fixed, no burning smell, and the remote starter still worked.
This is why I don’t go to dealerships.