About a month ago, I took my car in to my regular mechanic to see if he could track down and repair the source of a clunking noise/vibration I could hear/feel while turning. He found the cause - the intermediate shaft in the steering assembly needed to be replaced. Unfortunately, this is a 'dealer only' repair. I cringed when I heard those words. My time working in a garage had impressed upon me, through the stories of other customers, the complete incompetence of our local car dealership service departments.
I finally broke down yesterday and made arrangements to drop the car off Friday morning, figuring I'd be better off not having a car while I'm off from work than having to deal with getting a ride to work and being trapped in my office, a fate worse than death in my opinion. When I called I told the guy I spoke with that I needed the intermediate shaft replaced. He said, "Ahhh. OK!" in a knowing manner and I assumed this meant that all the major players were familiar with the problem, especially since GM issued a technical bulletin for the problem. I dropped the car off this morning (well, yesterday morning now) at 8:30, again specifying that the intermediate shaft needed to be replaced. Since the car was going to be in the dealer's hands, I asked them to check it out front to back and make sure everything else was in decent shape. What the hell, I'm dealing with professionals, right?
One would assume that my stating not once, but twice that the car needed the intermediate shaft replaced would have facilitated a relatively quick repair. And one would be WRONG. When I hadn't heard anything by 4:30, I called to get an update.
Mr. Goodwrench: "Hold on a sec and I'll check on your car for you."
Me: "Thanks."
Mr. Goodwrench: "Sir? OK, the intermediate shaft in your steering assembly needs to be replaced. I have one in stock and that'll run you $239."
Me: (Pulls phone from ear, stares at it, blood pressure doubles) "No shit! Imagine that, since I brought it in to have the intermediate shaft replaced anyway. What are the chances of you figuring out that it needs the part that I brought it in for! Imagine that!"
Mr. Goodwrench: "Oh. Ummmm. I'm sorry about that. Oh, you also need the 60,000 mile maintenance performed. That'll cover all your filters and labor to replace them and would run you $539."
Me: "Yeah I think I'll go with just the shaft replacement, thanks."
Mr. Goodwrench: "OK. I'm sorry about this. Let me see if we can get this done for you before seven" (covers phone and hollers across garage) "Can we get that shaft done tonight?" (comes back on phone) "We can have it done for you in the morning."
Me: (Doubtful of this service department's ability to find their asses with both hands, a flashlight, and a road map) "Fine. Thanks."
And that's that. Eight hours. They had my car for eight hours just so they could tell me that I needed the part replaced that I had brought it in for anyway. And after eight hours I still had to call to find out what the hell was going on. It better be done tomorrow morning. I have important places to go and don't need to be held up by more stupidity.
If I ever need 'dealer only' service again, I'm torching the fucking car and buying a new one. The hassles of car shopping and a monthly payment will hurt far less than the aggravation of dealing with this service department.
