2/24/2015 Updated review

Before you say it... No, this isn't because I'm cranky from just quitting smoking though that doesn't help.



I bought a Suburban from these guys a year ago. A little while back I get a notice that there's been a recall on this model for some fucking thing that could do something bad possibly maybe.



No hurry.



Then I get repeated emails from Lawley to set an app't to get this thing replaced so I figure I better do it. I call the number on the email and leave messages with the service manager to set an app't since the dealership is a 70 mile r/t but I can't get a call back.



Now with this stupid "30 Days in the Hole" project I've been doing, I gotta lot of free time so I drive in with Chaille in two cars so I can just leave the Suburban in case its gonna be a while.



While Chaille is talking to service, I ask where the new Suburbans and Tahoes are so I can kill some time and check em out. Maybe upgrade to one with GPS like I should have done in the first place.



I ask 3 different people, two of them salesmen, where to find their 2 biggest selling models and they all looked at me cow-faced like I'd asked where to find a gay mosque.



"Uh.... huh? Mm... I think we have a GMC Yukon?" was the best one could eek out, as though I'd said Suburban & Tahoe mistakenly.



I find Chaille and he tells me it's gonna be two days but thats ok, we have to come back anyway in two days so his gal-pal can have a dentist yank out one of her baby-teeth.



They ask if I want a $15 car wash. Fuck yeah, I want a car wash. There's no decent one in 100 miles literally.



Two days later, Friday. Chaille takes his bag-hag to the tooth-ripper and afterwards they stop to get the Suburban. Told the part didn't come in but should be on the delivery truck that gets there at noon.



Chaille ain't hanging around in a waiting room on the off chance, no sir. Not with his ladies face all blown up and full of cotton balls.



So around 2:30 the guy that took our original service order - Clint, a slouch-bean who always looks pained & perplexed - calls me. Not only wasn't our part on that days delivery as they told Chaille, there isn't even anywhere to get the fucking part until Chevrolet makes some more of the fucking things.



Now we have to drive back to Sierra Vista - a third 70 mile r/t to pick up my car that still may do something shitty at any given moment perhaps until an unavailable part is built, shipped & installed.



Let's not blame Clint. It isn't his fault that Chevy made a boo-boo. Not his fault that none of his classmates at Lawley Junior High School know what the fuck is going on at any given time, telling customers all sorts of different shit, wasting their time, not returning phone calls or being dumbfounded when queried about their own best-selling products.



But here was the final rub.I come in to pick up my fucking car... with a smile on my face. I'd hit some thrift stores in Sierra Vista & was about to have sushi with Chaille & the baby-tooth.



Clint the Hoople-Head Hoosier 'aw-shucks' me about the missing part and the miscommunications and the wasted time and gas.



He then tells me that they went ahead and did the 15 dollar car wash...BUT...he said my part was so "filthy" (it was not) that it had taken the guy cleaning it two full days to get done. "That's all he's did for two straight days is get that clean."



It wasn't actually filthy, he said, it was the dog hair... that's real hard to get out (quite possibly was.)



Clint says they had to charge me DOUBLE for the car wash & mutters his way thru his reasoning (pointing to a sign that SUVs may be 15% more to clean???) as though creating a NEW PRICE without ASKING ME could ever be reasonable.



AND EVEN STILL... I just sucked it up. I just wanted my keys, some sushi and get home to my trailer. I paid double and didn't say a word.



And as I got up close to my car I saw that it was... fucking FILTHY!



Deal-fucking-breaker! I turn around and there's Clint walking by and sees his own death in my eyes.



"Is there sumthin amatter?"



"Clint... this car is filthy!"



"Filthy?"



I wiped my hand across the drivers door and it came up thick dark brown. Same across the hood,same result.



Clint looked like he was going to shit, cry and remove his uniform in a synchronized crescendo of failure but then it came to him like a vision!



"Oh wait! It rained! Ask anyone in there... it Rained!"



DID IT RAIN FUCKING MUD???



I explained that it would be illegal to charge me a price other than negotiated without my consent.



"Yes but the sign says..."



THE SIGN SAYS 15%, NOT 100% YOU FUCKING DUNCECAP! DO YOU GIVE 50% *BACK* TO PEOPLE WHO'S CARS ARE EXCEPTIONALLY CLEEEEEAN???



At this point I realize that it's best to just leave and call the Service Manager on Monday. You know, the service mngr who wouldn't return calls in the 1st place.