10:30 a.m.
I waited while the phone rang, nervously rehearsing what I was going to say. “Hi,” I said when the line was picked up. “My name is Andrea Peach, and I’m interested in one of your vehicles I saw advertised on the Internet. It’s a 2004 Blue Jeep Liberty.”
The salesman shuffled through a few papers. “Do you happen to have the stock number?” I did. “Ah,” he said. “I know exactly the jeep you’re referring too. It’s a beautiful little burgundy model with 12,000 miles.”
“Um, actually it’s blue. And it had 34,000 miles.”
There was a pause. “Ah,” he said. “I’m not sure if that one is still on the lot. Do you mind if I check and call you back in five minutes?” When he called back, it was all green lights and good news. “That’s a beauty of a jeep,” he said. “It’s loaded. It has a sunroof, six-CD changer, side airbags. You name it, this jeep has got it.”
“Great,” I said. “I’ll be in sometime today to look at it.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” he said. “The dealership is open until 9:00 p.m.”
8:00 p.m.
I arrived at the dealership. My cell phone started to ring, then cut off suddenly. A salesman approached from the back room of the dealership, hand held out.
“Andrea, I presume?” he asked. “I was just calling you. If you weren’t coming, I was going to go home.” [1]
“I’m here now,” I said.
“Well, let me go get the jeep.” My friend S. (who is extremely practical and good-hearted enough to come along and assist me with my car shopping) and T. wandered around the showroom. When the jeep pulled up, we all looked at each other and burst into laughter.
It was a beautiful jeep. It was also covered in two inches of snow and none of the windows had been scraped. The windshield was a myriad map of droplets and ice. [2] The engine sounded a little rough, but any engine would sound a little rough after starting in below-freezing weather. “Do you mind popping the hood so we can get a look at the engine?” S. asked.
“Let’s wait until we get to the gas station,” the salesman said. “Most of the snow should have blown off by then.” We got to the gas station and he leapt out of the driver’s seat. “Oh,” he said. “I guess it didn’t blow off as much as I thought.” Luckily, by then the defroster had managed to de-ice most of the windows, and S., T., and I huddled around the engine.
T. decided to be the test driver. [3] While T. drove, S. hung her head out the window to listen to the engine.
Did I mention it was below-freezing temperatures? We had all dressed warmly, but the salesman was not amused. “What are you guys doing?” he asked me. “Trying to freeze me out?” [3] I shrugged and continued to ask questions about the jeep’s features, performance, and warranty. Much to my surprise, he didn’t seem very knowledgeable. When I asked if he had researched the warranty, he pointed to a paper in the window and said, “The information should be on that piece of paper.”
After T. pounded through some snow and did a few cookies in a parking lot, S. took over driving. She did a few braking tests as we drove back to the dealership, and she finally announced, “It pulls to the right.”
When we got back to the dealership, it was time to pop the engine again, and see if any leaks had developed. The salesman, clearly tired of being cold, handed me the keys and said, “I’m going inside. Come in when you’re done.” [5] The engine looked great . . . but I had a developing uneasiness about the car. We went inside to find out about potential payments and take a look at the Carfax.
The Carfax report looked great – except the car had taken a random trip to New Mexico. It was sold IN COLORADO at auction about six months ago, odometer reading of say 34,820 miles – then serviced in New Mexico about four months ago, and now back IN COLORADO with a reading of say 34,900 miles. Obviously, it had not been driven to New Mexico, but we all wondered what the heck happened there.
S. shrugged. “It says it’s a lease,” she said, “which I would believe – and is good news because the maintenance has been done on it. My best guess is a dealership in New Mexico purchased it, was unable to move it, and shipped it back to Colorado.” I looked at the Carfax report again. “There’s a recall regarding the ball-joint.” I looked at the salesman. “Do you know anything about the recall? What’s it for? Is this jeep affected?” [6]
He grumbled a little. “You have the Carfax there,” he said. “Other than that, I don’t really know. Can I have your driver’s license to get a copy? And here’s the paperwork. Please fill out the highlighted sections.” [7]
S., T., and I discussed the jeep while the salesman was off doing administrative work. S. shrugged. “It seems to be a good car,” she said. “I’d just make them fix the alignment and make sure the recall issues have been fixed.”
The salesman returned with a few payment plans. Everything looked perfect. But still, the feeling of uneasiness. “It pulls to the right,” I began, “which could be the alignment.”
The salesman waved his hand in the air. “Oh,” he said. “That could be anything. Tires. Alignment. Anything.” [8]
I looked at the papers in front of me. “I think I need to think about this overnight,” I said. “Run the figures through my budget and make sure they’ll work. I promise I’ll call you one way or the other.”
Needless to say, the salesman didn’t look happy.
7:30 a.m. the following day
I plugged “Liberty ball recall” into Google. Oddly enough, there is very little information on the internet regarding this recall . . . but it involves the ball joint that holds the wishbone front suspension together. The recall is a SAFETY recall as the ball can come loose, which can cause loss of steering and/or the entire front of your car collapses onto the front tires.
WHAT THE HELL?!
I spend the day frantically trying to do my job and research the recall issue, and a snowstorm blows in. As I promised the salesman I would call, I did.
“Hi,” I said. “This is Andrea. I wanted to let you know that I haven’t forgotten about you. Things at work were so crazy I didn’t have time to call. I was going to come out this evening to take another look at the jeep [TRUE], but with the snowstorm blowing in, I’m not sure I’m going to make it.”
“Oh,” he said. “I just wanted to let you know that I have a few more appointments from other people to come look at the car.”
“Okay,” I said. “Thanks. And by the way, did you find out anything about the recall?” [9]
He grumbled again. “Um, the jeep is affected.”
“Ah,” I said. “Has the work been done to fix it?” He cleared his throat. “The ball joints are on backorder.” A long silent pause. “Um,” I said, “when do you think it can be fixed by?”
“The parts are on backorder,” he repeated. “So, I don’t know.” Another long silent pause. “By the way, it looks like the dealership is closing early from the storm, so maybe it would be best if you didn’t come tonight.” I laughed inside. “What about your other appointments?” I asked. There was some brief sputtering, then . . . “I suppose they’re still coming in.” I looked out the window at the blizzard. If someone wanted to brave that weather to go look at the vehicle, they were welcome to it. “Thanks again,” I said.
That evening, I spoke with T. about the recall, the absolutely sucky customer service, and the fact that this did, indeed, seem to be a perfect little jeep, provided we could get the recall work done.
The following day:
9:00 a.m.
T. called the dealership to discuss the recall work getting done (the salesman was not in as of yet). He was connected to the service shop – which is apparently populated by competent and friendly individuals (who would have guessed). The service guy reassured us that if the only reason we weren’t purchasing the vehicle was the ball joint, he could pull the part from a newer model and have it ready to go in a few hours. [10]
T. called the salesman to tell him we would take the jeep, provided the recall work was done and it no longer pulled to the right.
“Great,” he said. “But you better hurry in, because the first person with cash gets it.” No effort to work with us. No request for a good faith deposit. Nothing. T. was furious. “Fine,” he said. “We’ll call back in the afternoon and see if it’s still there. If not, we’ll just look elsewhere.” The salesman seemed flustered, but made no effort to find an alternate way of sealing the deal.
Later that afternoon, it dawned on me that I could work through lunch and get off work an hour early. Unfortunately, T. was called into work, so he could only drive me to the dealership, but not home. “Not a problem,” I said. “I can drive the jeep home. This will work perfectly”
“Um,” T. said. “No, you can’t. The salesman wouldn’t let it go to the shop for the recall fix until we purchase it. And it requires several hours of work.”
WHAT?! I CALLED AT 9:00 AM AND THE SALESMAN WAS NOT PROACTIVE ENOUGH TO IMMEDIATELY PUT THE CAR IN THE SHOP?
Not to mention . . . this is a SAFETY recall. The only reason NOT to fix it is if they are hoping some unsuspecting soul fails to ask about the recall and make them fix it. (Okay . . . okay . . . in all honesty, there is a second reason. The parts are scarce and they may need them for the newer models . . . but still . . . SAFETY RECALL.)
Long story short – the jeep sold to someone else at 6:00 p.m. (and lord only knows if the recall work was done . . . .). Part of me is very sad I missed out on this beautiful jeep – and part of me is extremely happy that the salesman doesn’t get any of my money.
And it’s back to searching for a jeep . . . .
GRRRRRRRRRRR.
[1] The first thing he says to me is “I was going home.” I admit it was late - - but I repeat - - the FIRST thing he said to me is “I was going home.”
[2] He knew from 10:30 a.m. that I was coming in to look at the jeep – and NEVER BRUSHED THE SNOW OFF.
[3] Note: he never asked any of us for our driver’s license and/or proof of insurance. . . .
[4] A) If he didn’t know what we were listening for, I wasn’t about to tell him, and B) it was cold . . . butt cold . . . but every other comment focused on how cold he was rather than the features and/or condition of the car.
[5] I repeat . . . he never asked any of us for ID. We could have driven off and they would have had one heck of a time finding us.
[6] I ASKED ABOUT THE RECALL.
[7] Now he asks for my Driver’s License . . . .
[8] I did not omit his offer to fix it. HE DIDN’T OFFER.
[9] Note this information was never offered. I had to keep after the issue. Like pulling teeth . . .
[10] Is it just me . . . or was that the salesman’s job? Why did we have to call the service department to discuss replacing the ball joint?
