Ugh. After having a day to calm down about this, I’d like to post a rant about my recent (almost) car buying experience.
So, for some background: boyfriend and I break up (amicably), but our car is in his name, and I’m going to need a car since he’s moving out. This is a slightly time-sensitive issue, so I’d really like to get a new car ASAP. I know exactly what I want, too–a red version of what we have already. 2003 Hyundai Tiburon GT V6–reliable and oh-so-pretty. So I spent the last week going around to car dealerships talking prices with various salesmen until I found the lowest price. I wasn’t 100% happy even then (my ex said I should pay less), but whatever, I needed a car.
So the plan was for me to pick it up yesterday. I rearranged my whole day around it–I made sure I had EVERYTHING that the sales guy told me to bring–my check book (duh), and a copy of my new insurance card (I brought a copy and had state farm fax one over, just in case). I cancelled a doctor’s appointment that I had that day, and I left work early to go the insurance company to sign the papers and get the insurance card. I was prepared and excited to get my new car.
So, we get there (my ex and I) and we go to the new Hyundai building (there’s a big main building in this place, but they’re expanding into lots of little buildings for each car brand), talk to the car salesman a little, who then tells us we have to go to the main building to pick up my car (okay, no big deal, but he HAD told us the previous day that I could pick it up at the newers building.) So. We drive over to the new building and wait around for him. He comes over, says “let’s take a look at your new car.” Fine–it’s pretty. It’s red. It’s new. Let’s go.
“I’ll be right back,” he says. 10 minutes later, he comes back. “Everything’s all set,” he says. “Well, actually, I’m going to need proof of income. Our finance people will need that from you before we can let you buy the car.”
Wait a minute. NO ONE told me anything about “proof of income”–not the day before, not when I called, nothing. What would count as proof? “Well, a paystub,” he says. “You sure you don’t have a recent paystub on you?” Right, jackass, like I carry it around with me at all times.
“I’ll be right back,” says. 15 minutes later he comes back, and asks me again if I have any proof of income. “The Finance department really needs a pay stub or something.”
I tell him I don’t have any, and he kind of "tsk"s and says “Well, I’m going to let you take the car, but you have to take these dealer plates, and come back tomorrow and sign all the papers.” Apparently, the finance people didn’t “communicate” to him that I would need the proof of income because of the whole “being at different buildings” thing. “The bank that’s giving you a loan is a very tough bank,” he says. “They’re going to want to see a lot.” Well, jerk, if you’d known that before, why didn’t you, I don’t know, ASK THE FINANCE PEOPLE WHAT I WOULD NEED TO BRING WITH ME?
So, I kick my feet around a little and figure that a dealer plate car is better than no car, right? I say okay, I’ll take the dealer plates and come back tomorrow (which is really inconvenient for me because my friend’s wedding shower was tomorrow afternoon). So he starts putting the new plates on. We’re standing by the service and parts area and one of the mechanics walks by. “You got everything you need there?” he says to the salesman.
The salesman is poking around in the trunk at this point “No, I don’t,” he says. “The remotes are gone. She’s going to need new remotes.”
“Really?” says the mechanic, and he smiles and says (RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME):
"Guess we can’t get everything right, huh?"
And LAUGHS and walks away. At the time, I wasn’t sure what was happening, but now that I look back on it, I can’t believe he said that in front of the customer. I ask the sales guy what’s going on, and he says that my remotes (like, the things that are on your keychain that unlock the car remotely) are wrong, and he’s going to need half an hour to fix this, and could I please wait in the visitors area?
The visitors area turned out to be this scary area of the airplane hangar-like building with 20 year-old vending machines and rickety tables. There was a phone at an empty desk that two women there kept answering. I went to look at it later, and there was a sign by it that said “Attention Customers: If there is no receptionist here, please answer the phone when it rings. Thank You!” So, they make the customers answer the phone.
That was pretty much the last straw. I wait around for this guy for 45 more minutes, and when he comes back, I told him that I couldn’t believe what they were putting me through, and that I’d like to speak to a manager. He really didn’t want to put me through to a manager (he kept saying that “she’s at the other building”) and offered me a couple of free oil changes multiple times. I tried to stay calm and just kept asking for the manager. So, he calls up this woman, and is on the phone with her for 10 minutes before I get to speak to her.
“I understand there was some problem with your windows?” She says. 
“Um, no…I wasn’t aware of that,” I said.
“Oh,” she said. “He said your windows weren’t cleaned.” I look at him and mouth “windows?”
“They were dirty–they didn’t get cleaned” he said. “I cleaned them.”
This was getting better and better. I told her that I really didn’t feel comfortable buying from a dealership that was putting me through this much to purchase a car, and that not giving me all the right information and then making me wait for 45 minutes while they did stuff to the car that they should have done already was just completely unacceptable. If this is how they act when they’re supposed to want your business, how are they going to act when I have to get my car serviced or something? I also told her what the mechanic said–“That’s just not right,” she replied. I tend to agree.
“Well, you’ll be receiving a survey in the mail after you purchase the car,” she said, “and you’ll get a chance to tell us all about this. I’d like to remind you, though, that the survey results don’t affect the finance department and they don’t affect the mechanic who said that–they affect [the salesman], and I hope you keep that in mind when you’re filling out the survey.” What the FUCK?
“I’m going to have to think about this,” I said, after the 20th time I was offered free oil changes.
“Well, you do that,” she said. “I hope you’ll make the right decision.”
You know what, lady? Stick it up your ass. I DID make the right decision. I walked out of there with the knowledge that the simple of act of not doing business with you made me happier than driving away with a new car (and THAT’s saying something). What a way to run a business.
I’m back at square one in my search for a new car, but I’m so happy I escaped their evil clutches. Stupid incompetent car dealership people.