This happened about seventeen years ago in a major city in the very south of the Netherlands with a Renault dealership.

I had a new job, and we needed a second car. We bought a new Twingo, a car that went for about €12,000. There were two stipulations in the contract when we bought the car. The first was that we had to get financing through Renault. The second was that three years of maintenance were included. We financed a minor part for three years at 0% interest.

After the first year, I took the car for its first service. I had about 12,000 km on the odometer. When I dropped the car off, I was asked if there was anything that needed attention. I think I answered something like, “Do whatever you need to do…”

In the late afternoon when I picked up the car, three rather bulky men were standing behind the service desk. I remember that they were really focused on me when I was presented with the bill. The bill was for about €1,000. And for a one-year-old car with just 12,000 km! I immediately understood what had happened. They must have figured that they could inflate the bill with all kinds of nonsense maintenance actions since I had given them carte blanche, and to avoid any troubles, they made sure that I could be intimidated by having three people present.

Me: *Very friendly* “May I have my car key, please?”

Representative: “But you have to pay first!”

Me: “No, I don’t. Please may I have my car keys?”

Instead of enlightening them straight away, I kept going like this for a bit longer.

When things started to get a bit unfriendly, I reminded the representative that I had bought the car at this dealership, including three years of maintenance. All three guys turned a few shades paler. They frantically searched for the contract, whispering, and eventually moving away to the office out of earshot.

It took about ten minutes before the representative came back out and handed me my keys.

I ended up getting its third service just before the three years had elapsed, and as soon as I got the title to the car, I traded it in for a car of a different brand. And as you would expect, the bill for the second and third services was less than €300 to €400.

I’m at the parts and service desk at an auto dealership that services my make of car.

Me: “The navigator in—”

Clerk: *Interrupting* “Sir, if you need help with your navigator, you’ll have to contact whoever made it. We only service the factory-installed navigators.”

Me: “Allow me to clarify what I was saying before you interrupted. The factory-installed navigator in my car needs to be updated.”

I guess the dealership gets a lot of folks wanting them to update after-market navigators. Sadly, the process to update the factory navigator is neither easy nor cheap. I now have two cars with expensive but useless built-in navigators.

When I bought my current car in 1997, my husband (boyfriend at the time) and I had a bet going that the car salesman would approach him first. Alas, he got sick, and because I really needed a car and couldn’t wait for him to get well, I went car shopping by myself.

To the car salesman’s credit, he never once inquired about a husband or any other male relative.

Then, the manager started talking about add-ons — rustproofing, extended warranty, etc. When he got to the “rustproofing” part, I asked:

Me: “Do you really think we need rustproofing around here?”

I lived in a part of California with dry weather and never any snow. The manager just looked at me and closed the binder.

Manager: “You’re right.”

The car I bought was a 1995 Geo Metro, and I’m still driving it today.

I recently read this story. At least in the state I live in, before you can buy a car, the dealer does require assurance from an insurance company that they will offer a policy to cover the vehicle. Usually, an assurance from a representative over the phone is enough. A few months ago, though, my dad discovered why requiring it in writing can be so useful!

A couple of years ago, he bought a smaller car to get his payments down, and the dealer did it on the verbal say-so of an insurance representative that they would cover the new vehicle.

Dad kept paying for the policy and even renewed the policy in the meantime. He got into an accident just after Christmas… just to find out that the agency still had his old car on record, not the new one.

For over a week, they tried to claim they wouldn’t cover it. Eventually, they came to realize they would, after my dad threatened to tell the state’s insurance commission and every news agency he could contact.

If the dealer had gotten it in writing that the insurance company agreed to cover that particular vehicle, it would have made the fight so much easier to get them to fix their own mistake.

Related:
Pre(Car)ious Insurance, Part 11
Pre(Car)ious Insurance, Part 10
Pre(Car)ious Insurance, Part 9
Pre(Car)ious Insurance, Part 8
Pre(Car)ious Insurance, Part 7

I work at a dealership. The brand I work for offers a loyalty rewards program. If you spend $10 at the dealership, you get ten points. If you get 1,000 points, you can redeem them for a $10 voucher that can be used for parts or service. In order to redeem the points, all the customer has to do is tell their service advisor or the parts counter guy that they have points they want to redeem. The advisor or counter guy will do everything for them.

A husband and wife come up to me to pick their car up. I grab their paperwork and tell them their total. 

Customer: “We don’t owe anything. We have a customer care credit.”

Me: “A what?”

Customer: “A customer care credit.”

I flip through their paperwork, but I don’t see anything about a credit.

Me: “Who did you talk to about a credit?”

Customer: “We called them, and they said you guys are supposed to go online and redeem the points and print it out for us.”

Me: “Oh, a voucher.”

Customer: “It’s not a voucher. It’s a customer care credit, and you guys are supposed to redeem it.”

Me: “Your service advisor will do that for you. I’ll go talk to him.”

I grab the keys and paperwork and go to the service lane. Their advisor is at lunch, so I ask a different advisor. This advisor has only been with us for a little over two months, and I’m not sure if he’s seen a voucher yet. The other two advisors are either with customers or on the phone.

Me: “Can you redeem a voucher for—”

Customer: “It’s not a voucher. It’s a customer care credit.”

Advisor: “A what?”

Me: “A voucher.”

Customer: “It’s not a voucher! It’s a customer care credit!”

Advisor: “Uh… I can’t do credits. If it was a coupon, then yes, but credits need to be approved by [Manager #1] or [Manager #2].”

I look in the manager’s office, but neither is in there. I page them, and [Manager #1] comes up.

Me: “They want to redeem a voucher.”

Customer: “It’s not a voucher. It’s a customer care credit.”

Manager: “A what?”

Customer: “A customer care credit.”

Manager: “Do you have a paper or something?”

Customer: “Nope. You’re supposed to redeem our points for us and print it out here.”

Manager: “A voucher.”

Customer: “It’s not a voucher; it’s a customer care credit.”

I leave while the manager and the customer discuss whether they really do mean a voucher or a credit. About fifteen minutes later, their advisor is back from lunch and he brings me the customer with their paperwork, including a voucher. The customer is clearly irritated that it took so long to pick their car up.

Me: “Okay, it looks like your voucher covers everything—”

Customer: “It’s not a voucher.”

Me: “I just need a signature here.”

Customer: *Signs* “It’s a customer care credit.”

Me: “Have a good day.”