I was going to get my car inspected (required annually in Texas before updating your tags). It's a 22-year-old Accord, which looks bad but runs good and I'm frequently told by technicians that "it's mechanically in really great shape." I had gotten through to September with no car costs after a few years of paying for understandable but still wallet-crunching repairs. All of this because I honestly don’t believe I can afford a new car.
The day before my appt, a maintenance light went on.
The guy at the non-dealership joint tells me that's a no-go, so I ask him to do a diagnostic to tell me what needs to be done to pass.
Because I know they'll have the car for more than a day and because I live alone and don't have a network of friends who would otherwise give me rides when I'm in a bind, I got a rental.
The rental is a glistening, ruby-colored, 2025 Hyundai Kono, which has never been driven by anyone other than the guy who put it on and off of the truck to deliver it to the rental joint. (By the way, thanks Enterprise...your customer service and process speed were on fucking point. Kudos to you.)
But, being the first proper driver of such a gem of a new car ramped up my anxiety something fierce, and doubly so when I got home and remembered that the apartment company doesn't allow any non-stickered cars to park in front of your building, so you have to park out on the furthest rim of the massive complex.
Around 4pm I get a message from the car repair shop, with a FUCKING LAUNDRY LIST of things they think should be fixed. Amongst these items was an air filter I’d had replaced less than a month ago, so I immediately doubted the tenor of our previous understanding. But I’m Nice Guy Steve, so I called and talked through the issues.
On the bright side, to get me passable for a state inspection there was nothing to do…a signal trigger deep in the electronics of the car had pinged when it wasn’t needed, and so NOTHING NEEDED TO BE DONE TO COMPLETE THE INSPECTION. Which relieved me greatly, because as we talked, I was informed of $7000 worth of potential repairs. I cannot imagine how much this would have cost at my dealership.
Ever the polite and astute customer, I said “Can you send me a full list of quotes on these items so that after the inspection I can thumb through it and decide what’s most important, etc etc blah blah blah…” They sent it through and said that I could pick up the vehicle the next day.
Sweaty and aching with anxiety, I ordered a pizza I didn’t need, and sat down for some entertainment, with no further thought on the subject tonight once this part of the post was typed and edited.
End of Act 1.
Act 2.
During my morning walk (I say that like I walk every morning which just doesn’t happen, but I am trying for some semblance of routine in that regard), I see the rental is still there, parked so very far away, still pristine, still glowing like a prize.
It takes several hours but after lunch I get a call. The car is going to be ready by end of day.
End of day: I rush over, drop the rental, wait for the shuttle, go to the repair shop, get squared away, leave and go home.
But as I pulled up at my place, I realized I didn’t have the state inspection paperwork I was promised, which shows it was successful.
I call and ask if they can email me the paperwork, and the guy says, “Well maybe something didn’t pass.”
And the fuse was lit. The bomb might not go off, but I had every inkling that it would. My anxiety shot through the roof. And I ordered food I did not need. It was 5:15.
My delivery was to arrive at 5:49 and at 5;35 I received a call and they explained that there was an error, and they could take care of the inspection quickly if I brought it in before 6pm. My food had not yet arrived. I live alone. No one could accept the food for me.
I waited. Seven agonizing minutes. The food arrived. I threw it in the fridge. Grabbed everything I might possibly need. Ran out the door. Drove over and then waited. The work was completed. I got the paperwork. I left as they drew down the last of the garage bay shutters.
I got home. I set everything in its place. I ate like a ravenous beast. I sat, becoming calm again.
Today was my first day on Carvedilol.
End of Act 2.
Epilogue: It was, as the man once said, a great experience until it wasn’t. I was ready to give them possible future repair business. I was ready to consider them a good recommendation should anyone ask me for it.
But … no. Paying for something that had not been done? That seems like a deal-killer. Add to that the air filter that had been replaced weeks earlier that they claimed needed to be replaced, which set off my alarms. But it was, in the end, all of the issues wrapped up in their “we’re here to help you” vibe that had the wind knocked out of it by repeated carelessness and a lack of good customer service.
I’ll never utilize (REDACTED) again.