By George Eleon Shuman
No, I wasn’t born yesterday, but
after one phone call this morning, I am convinced that some people might think
I was.
What happened is that I called a
local car dealership, (It is one which I have purchased new cars from several
times in the past.) Today I wasn’t
interested in a new car. As I told him, I was simply asking if my four-year-old
car had any outstanding recalls that I should be aware of. I also had one other
small issue with one aspect of how the windshield wipers were working or not always working.
Anyway, I will admit that the
person I spoke with in the repair department was very nice. He carefully
checked my VIN number, my name, address, phone number, hair color and underwear
size, (I’m kidding on those last two, but believe me, the list was long.) He
told me that the only recall on the car was something about the trailer hitch
wiring. My car has no trailer hitch, so I thought this was good news.
Then the nice repair shop gentleman
suddenly slipped into the conversation the fact that there would be a charge to
enable him to pay his service rep to find out what was wrong with my wiper. (Remember
if there WAS something wrong with the wiper system, it was a COVERED repair.)
Me: “But this is a covered item
under your bumper-to-bumper warranty. Right?”
Him: “Well yes, but the diagnosis
charge isn’t covered.”
“I didn’t know there was a
diagnosis charge.”
“There is. I can’t have the service rep. do the
diagnosing for nothing.” (He somehow seemed a bit less friendly now.)
“How much is the charge then, to
tell me what is wrong, for something that, if broken, you will fix for free?” I
didn’t say it quite like that to him, but I wanted to.
“The charge is $130 per hour.” (He
said this part softly and very quickly, just like my cardiologist did when
running through the ‘death or stroke’ part of my possible future surgery
complications.)
Me: “And how long will it take?
“Well, I have no idea,” he said, “until
we begin diagnosing it.” (This was more like when a particular politician, who
I won’t name here, told us we would have to pass the bill to find out what was
in it.)
‘More than an hour?” I asked back.
Him: “Like I said, I have no idea.”
Then: “Yes, it could be more than an hour...”
From the conversation so far, I had
become aware that the service department was fully ready to present me with a
bill for several hundred dollars for diagnosing why my windshield wipers didn’t
work, whether or not I had them fix them. Something about this seemed like less
than good service, and nothing like warranty service to me. Also, the car maker
would obviously pay the dealership for the part, plus the cost of the labor, but
this seemed a separate issue to my new friend on the phone. And wait, there’s
more.
Me: “I have several trips to take
in the next few weeks, and the appointment date you gave me will be after those
trips and after my car has just barely passed the bumper to bumper warranty
limit.”
“Well, that’s the soonest
appointment I have open. We’re busy and booking things out through next month.”
I bet they always say that. (Now he seemed less friendly, for sure.)
“Ok, so can we at least make a note
that I called while my car was still fully warrantied and that this repair will
be covered?
“No, I can’t do that.” He muttered.
“But why not? I’m calling today,
the car is still under warranty today, and it’s just a windshield wiper. I’d be
glad to have you fix it before my trip.”
My feeling was that he could guarantee that the wiper repair would NOT
be covered by the time of that tentative appointment date.
With that, I decided to not make an
appointment, or purchase a car at that dealership again. They were very logical
in their effort to convince me that they weren’t worth dealing with. I don’t
have the energy these days to fight such things, so I just won’t.
I don’t mind paying for a diagnosis
with my aforementioned cardiologist. I’m just not paying anyone whatever hourly
amount they want to charge me for however long they tell me it took them to
figure out the mysteries of my windshield wipers.
My advice? If you have a good,
local, honest mechanic hang on to him or her. Unlike the dealership people who
should know your car very well, a neighborhood mechanic will usually tell you
what’s wrong… for free.
