Friday, August 22, 2003

New Car Hubris12:05 AM CST (Link)
(Long. Hit Back now, while you can.)

The Dream
Ever since I can remember, I've wanted a small, cute, two-seat red convertible. The first cars I lusted after were the British MG and Triumph Spitfire-type convertibles of the 60s and 70s. In the mid-80s, GM released the Fiero. Wow. Although not a true convertible, it still caught my eye. However, it was made for only two years and it was even more unreliable than those old British sports cars.

The next cute lil things that appeard in my consciousness were the Mazda Miata, the Honda Civic del Sol, and more recently, the limited-run Toyota MR2 Spyder. And every now and then, I went through the "if I had the money, what would I buy" routine. The Miata has been a frontrunner all this time, although had the del Sol still been on the market, it would have been a hard, hard choice. At one point, I thought the MR2 a viable option, but reports of engine problems torpedoed that idea.

Unfortunately, Mel and I haven't had the means to buy such a hedonistic vehicle. Either we needed to buy a practical vehicle to haul family or objects or we didn't have enough money. But last week, everything aligned just right for once and a dream came true.

Mel and I marched into the local Mazda dealership, plunked down some money, signed on the dotted line for the rest, and drove home in a brand new 2003 Miata in Strato Blue. No, it's not red. It's better than red. This particular blue is the most beautiful color I have ever seen on a car.

The Nightmare
One of the more irritating traits I've inherited from the parental units is the urge to show off my new toys. That's not so much a problem when you're talking about PDA-sized gadgets and gizmos. But I always get this feeling that it's bad karma to brag about a new car. But I do it anyway. I can't help it. My comeuppance has been in how the dealership has handled the sale and subsequent service of my new baby.

Friday
After trying with no avail at the South location to see if they had the type of vehicle I wanted, we tried the North location. There it was, sitting in the back of the lot, just waiting for me. We test-drove it. I even took it up to work to see how it did on a particularly troublesome on-ramp. Zoom! I'm in love.

3:30 p.m.
We sat down at the Sales Guy's desk. He really didn't have to do any selling. All I wanted was a reasonable price. I hate dickering over car prices. He went away for a while and came back with an offer that we accepted. It was a good deal and I wasn't unhappy about it. He went away again. Why? I dunno. We weren't giving him any trouble. This come-back-go-away routine goes on for a couple of hours. Usually this is a tactic salesmen use when they're trying to wear you down, but there's no reason for this performance for us.

4:55 p.m.
The Finance Guy finally escorted us into his office to begin the Signing of the Paperwork. As soon as we sat down, he excused himself, picked up the phone book and commenced to flip through the pages to find the name of his insurance agent. He couldn't remember her name and he had 5 minutes to contact her and pay his insurance bill. He'd forgotten about it, even though the agent called him earlier in the week to remind him to get it in by Friday.

After several minutes of slapping through pages, he gave up and turned his attention back to us. We went through the paperwork, talking about options such as insurance and extended warranties, all of which we rejected.

I didn't have a lot of confidence in someone who waits until the last MINUTE to attempt to pay his insurance bill, but I didn't say anything. (It wasn't a matter of his ability to pay. He obviously had the money. He just procrastinated.)

5:30 p.m.
We finished the paperwork and Finance Guy finally remembered his agent's name. He gave her a call and she gave him a grace period. We were all relieved, for various reasons.

Sales Guy says the make-ready crew was not done yet. They've been really busy and they are backed up, he said. Busy? Where? I think I saw one other person who might have been a customer in the showroom the whole time we were there. I hate to think what happens on heavy sales days.

One of the conditions of sale was that all dealer stickers and emblems were to be removed at the time of delivery. I don't like those life-of-the-vehicle advertisements, so I remove them every chance I get. If I like a dealership, I'll spread the word. If I don't, I'll spread the word. I don't want someone to assume I endorse a dealership just because of an emblem on the back of my car.

Sales Guy comes back in from a progress check with a hand-dog look. He confessed that he pulled off the dealer's label and then pulled off the MAZDA emblem as well.

He said he didn't know that the MAZDA emblem was not a dealer-installed part. Of course, the factory-applied emblem is attached with two plastic legs that slip into holes in the body of the car. So now I just had two holes where the emblem goes. Also, he scratched the finish taking it off, so already I had a ding. Ding anxiety is over before it even began.

I asked him to get us a replacement sticker. He called the parts department. They have one. Only one. But they were about to close, so we had to come back the next day to get it put back on.

6 p.m.
I finally got the car. Sales Guy kept running out to show me cool things, so Mel made it half-way home before I even got out of the parking lot. Noticing that the outside temperature gauge on the rearview mirror wasn't showing the temperature, I asked him how to set it. He started flipping through the owner's manual. I told him I could read it later if it was in the owner's manual. All I wanted to do is go home.

Mel made it home quite a bit ahead of me. She rearranged the cars to give the Miata the primo parking space.

I spent the rest of the evening reading the owner's manual. Nowhere did it mention this particular rearview mirror. It's fancy. It's got a compass, a thermometer, and it dims automatically if some dork with his high beams on comes up behind you. Pretty cool. Wish I knew how it worked.

Saturday
10 a.m.
We had lots of errands to run, some of them near the Mazda dealership. So I called Sales Guy to tell him we would be there about 11 a.m. He didn't answer, so I left a message. I also asked him to find us printed instructions for the mirror.

11 a.m.
He had the Mazda emblem ready for us. Fortunately, the emblem covered the scratches. We were all relieved. I asked him about instructions for the mirror. He doesn't have them, but tells us to meet him in the service area to see if a technician can help us out.

Turns out the code the thermometer was showing indicated there was a problem. (Why didn't they check this out before they released it to me?) He made me an appointment with Service Guy for Monday at 7:30 a.m. But still no printed instructions. He said he would get them from a technician.

Monday
7:30 a.m.
I delivered the car to Service Guy at the appointed hour. He offered to get me a rental, but I declined, figuring that if they could get me to work with their shuttle, I could get a ride back to the dealership. Besides, he said it shouldn't take more than a couple of hours. I also asked for an oil change, because the car was a demo with a couple hundred miles on it and I wanted to make sure it had a fresh start with me. I also asked if he could get me printed instructions for the mirror. He said he had just thrown out a bunch of copies because no one asked for them. I asked him to get me a copy anyway.

11 a.m.
I called Service Guy and left a message asking for an update. I reminded him to get me printed instructions for the mirror.

2 p.m.
I called Service Guy again because he never returned my call. He said there was a problem with technicians not showing up for work as scheduled and he wasn't sure they could get my car at all that day. I asked if he had gotten printed instructions for the mirror. He had not. He mumbled something about having to order them from somewhere. He didn't know if he could get them.

2:15 p.m.
I called Sales Guy. He didn't answer, so I left a message. I told him I was not a Happy Camper because we had made an appointment and I expected it to be kept. I reminded him that I needed written instructions for the mirror. I reminded him that I hadn't filled out their evaluation form yet.

4 p.m.
I called Service Guy for an update. He actually answered the phone. He said they had found the problem with the mirror. A crimped wire that they repaired. They were doing the oil change right now and it would be ready by day's end. I asked about the instructions for the mirror. More hemming and hawing. No promises.

6 p.m.
I picked up the car. The temperature gauge worked fine. Service Guy was frazzled because it had been "a Monday". I asked about the instruction sheet for the mirror. He said he would go see if they came in. They had. He made me a copy. I was happy.

Wednesday
9:30 p.m.
Mel gave me bad news. There's an oil leak. It wasn't a gusher, but it was definitely a leak. It didn't smell or taste like antifreeze and it didn't evaporate like water. Definitely oil. I was so upset that all I could do was shower and go to bed.

Thursday
7 a.m.
Back at the dealership to get the leak checked. Instead of getting a ride to work, I waited. It only took an hour. Service Guy said it was a defective gasket on the oil filter. OK. I'll make an attempt to believe that. It's fixed. That's what counts.

5 p.m.
Finance guy called the house to ask for two references because he forgot to ask for them last week. Fortunately, I was home from work a bit early to nurse a leg problem and was able to give him the information he needed. I'm steamed, though. It's been nearly a week. That paperwork should have been turned in a LONG time ago.

End of the First Week Questions
Why was it so hard to get instructions for a feature of my car? Those instructions should have been included in the kit Sales Guy gave me.

Why has it taken a WEEK to get our paperwork done? And, honestly, why should I trust to handle my financial deal someone who can't even keep up with his own insurance?

Why should I deal with a salesman who doesn't know the difference between dealer-applied and manufacturer-applied features, even if they are just emblems? What if it were something important, such as how the car compares to its competitors?

Summary
All-in-all, I was not impressed with any part of this deal -- the sale, financing (even though we had been preapproved through our credit union), or aftersale service. The only thing that continues to impress me is the Miata itself.

My goal for next week is to drive the car more than two days before I have to take it back to the dealer for something. But if I haven't accomplished anything else this week, at least I now have instructions for using that fancy-schmancy rearview mirror. If you need a copy, let me know.

Wednesday, August 6, 2003

True Love05:23 PM CST (Link)
I'm a chicken.

I admit it and I'm not ashamed of it. Because of horrid childhood experiences at the hands of a ham-fisted, so-called pediatric dentist, I have to be sedated for anything more than routine cleaning and X-rays.

Yesterday was one such visit. I took a magic blue pill an hour before arriving at the dentist's office and by the time we got there, I was as loopy as spring robin loaded up on fermented chinaberries. By the time I sat down in the chair, I was out cold. I didn't wake up again until later that afternoon and then again around 10 p.m. or so. Even then, I have only fuzzy memories of both times.

This blue pill not only knocks you out, it turns your brain upside down and shakes it to erase all your short-term memories. I remember nothing about yesterday. Absolutely zero. Normally, that kind of memory loss would be extremely frightening to someone who hates even getting a little tipsy for fear of losing control. However, in this case, I have no worries. The person looking after me whenever something like this happens is someone I trust implicitly.

In fact, we'll celebrate 12 years of our being together this month. In my opinion, a mark of a good relationship is not keeping track of how much time has passed. Rather, it's marveling how the years have flown by. It always takes me a couple of minutes to count the years, because I cannot (or don't want to) think of a time when Mel wasn't in my life.

I suppose I was hungry when I woke up the first time. I hadn't eaten anything since the night before. But today, as I was trying to remember what I had eaten, Mel reminded me. "You don't remember that fabulous strawberry and banana smoothie I made you?"

"No, I don't," I replied, frantically searching the blank spaces in my mind.

"You said it was fabulous; that it was the best you'd ever had," she said.

And I'm absolutely sure it was. How do I know she made me a smoothie? Mel does not lie. Plus, I know there were three bananas in the basket on Monday. Now there are two.

Ladies and gentlemen, Mel would sooner have a poke in the eye with a short stick than even look at a banana. The sight, smell, touch, and taste of bananas makes her gag instantly. That she would even think of making me a strawberry-banana smoothie is an awesome display of devotion.

That, my friends, is true love. I just wish I could remember it.

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