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| Evert Akkerman |
As we all know, car dealerships hold their own customer service in high regard. Their sites are top-heavy with stuff like “we pride ourselves on offering you a wide range of services,” “we are committed to exceeding your expectations,” “we deliver a superior buying experience” and “you will always be treated with respect.”
However, there’s often a disconnect between stated values and conduct in the field. Some companies seem to view customers as prey, and this goes for dealers too. Various pictures showed cars with dents, some had mud up to the windows, and one showed a cigarette butt in an empty Tim’s cup on the console. How hard would it be to
grey: ISTOCKPHOTO.COM
One of the important lessons I learned from my dad is paying attention to how people deal with their possessions. Whenever he needed a car, he’d look in the classifieds (1970s and 80s) as he considered buying new a waste. He’d pick a Saturday, pack a bunch of big bills, and drop by a list of addresses to check out the merchandise, as well as the owners. One seller opened the hood of the car that my dad was interested in. Yup, it had a motor, and all the parts were in place. Subsequently, the seller slammed the hood with a bang that rattled windows up and down the street. My dad moved on immediately, saying, “If this is how he treated that car all these years, I don’t want it.”
Aaaannd let’s talk about me again. In July, I spotted a 300 at a dealership in the Muskoka region of Ontario that looked immaculate. The car, I mean, but that photo gave me high hopes for the dealership too. It was an ex-rental car with fairly low mileage, and it had been sitting for a few months. My first instinct was to assume that the who-knows-how-many renters had been hard on the car, as some renters are wont to do, but then I thought of the M.O. of rental companies: 1) they are quite eager to charge customers for any damage not present or noted at pickup but present and noted upon a car’s return, 2) they scan and clean these cars each time, and 3) they make sure their cars are in tip-top shape mechanically, lest they receive calls and claims from damaged customers.
On July 8, my wife and I made a day trip to Muskoka and scheduled a 1:00 p.m. appointment for a test drive. Great news all around: both the car and the dealership were in good shape, and there was a Tim Hortons across the road. We test-drove the 300 and it performed as expected. No rattles, and only good vibrations. Over coffees, the saleslady prepared a quote for us, and we said we’d think about it.
Among the items listed was something called a “Protection Package,” for $399. I inquired via email what this entailed. Well, the saleslady explained, if we had a blown tire, we could come to the dealership and get it replaced for free, and if we lost a key fob, that would be covered too. I decided to pass on that as I’ve never lost a fob, and spending half a day driving from Newmarket to Muskoka to replace a tire didn’t make much sense either. So, this item was removed from the list. After some back and forth on the price of the 2022 and the trade-in for my 2014, we reached an agreement. We’d get $2,100 for the old car, pay about $30k for the new one, put $7,500 down, and finance $26,500.
On July 31, we drove north to pick up the new car and hand over my old one. And this is where it got interesting: while we filled out the paperwork, it turned out that the finance manager had decided, unilaterally, to increase the car loan amount from $26.5K to $28K, and she didn’t bother telling us. When we noticed and questioned it, she said that this would save us $60 in payments. Biweekly? No, over the course of the loan. Wow. This was all quickly reversed, sorry sorry sorry, she had meant well.
The mood soured a bit. If not illegal, this conduct struck me as unethical. I did some research afterward and found that the Motor Vehicle Dealers Act, 2002 mandates the Ontario Motor Vehicle Industry Council (OMVIC) to maintain and enforce a Code of Ethics for car dealers and their financial staff. The Code prescribes honesty and transparency, prohibits engaging in omissions and deceptive practices, and requires disclosure of key information like percentages and total cost in financing agreements.
Anyway, I took the plates off my old car, and the saleslady walked us to the new one. It was all nice and shiny of course. She handed me the fob.
Me: “And the spare key please?”
She: “This is the only one — we don’t have the spare.”
Me, baffled: “You’re telling me this now? A car should come with two sets of keys.”
She, going legal: “I disclosed this when we first met.”
Me: “No, you didn’t — that is something so basic, I would have flagged that instantly. That’s such a given that I don’t even think of it. It’s like me asking, ‘Does it have four wheels?’ So what’s the solution?”
She: “Well, that’s what the Protection Package is for.”
Me, laughing: “You are really smart.”
She: “I guess I’ll go get the manager.”
Me: “That sounds like a good idea.”
Apparently, the dealership had grown to the size of a Walmart distribution centre in those five minutes, as it took a while for the guy to show up, saleslady in tow.
Manager, with a I’m-the-big-gun-around-here-and-have-handled-dozens-of-gullible-customers smile: “So what’s going on?”
Like he didn’t know.
Me: “A car comes with two keys, standard. You’ve had this car in the lot since March. That means you’ve had five months to have a second key made.”
My wife, not smiling at all: “We need the second key.”
While I had been mildly amused by the situation up to that point, the manager realized that my wife was ready to walk back in there, pour the coffee back into the machine, shred the paperwork, walk away, and possibly leave a non-glowing review about the dealership’s operation, ethics and service level. This is when the manager’s read-the-room skills kicked in, and he folded like a wet napkin.
Manager: “OK, I know a guy who knows a guy, name’s Mike, right here on Dealer Alley. I’ll get him to make a spare fob, and I’ll pay for it.”
Me: “That sounds like a good solution. How and when would this happen?”
Manager: “I’ll have him come to your driveway next Wednesday.”
Me: “Sounds good.”
So the paperwork remained unshredded, we took the one key, got in and drove the glorious car off the lot. The following Wednesday, Mike the Key Fob King showed up in our driveway, displaying all the hallmarks of a professional, and 20 minutes later we had our spare key.
Evert Akkerman is an HR professional based out of Newmarket, Ont., founder of XNL HR. He can be reached at info@xnlhr.com and akkerman@rogers.com.
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