If you are anything like me, you conduct a small background check before making a major purchase.
Consider this your public service announcement. My strongest recommendation regarding this dealership is to run.
Not a light trot. Not a gentle fitness stroll. I am talking about a full Olympic sprint.I originally purchased my 2022 Suburban from this dealership because of proximity. I assumed that convenience would be helpful
in the event of mechanical issues. I now understand that proximity only makes it easier for them to inconvenience you faster.
If my experience can prevent you from repeating my mistake, then I will consider this review a charitable act.
Here is my forty five day dramatic production.
On October 29, I spoke with Matthew, who scheduled my vehicle drop off for October 31 with pickup on November 1.
Nothing unusual there. What was unusual was everything that followed.During this call, there was no mention of a diagnostic fee. None. Not whispered. Not hinted. Not tucked into a footnote.
No email mentioned it. No text message mentioned it. If the fee had been mentioned, I would not have complained because
I understand that time is money. However, I bought what was marketed as the best warranty they offer, sold to me verbally as
bumper to bumper. A description that was apparently more creative writing than factual representation. Based on that,
I reasonably assumed the diagnostic fee would be covered. Silly me. During the call, I also made it very clear that I required the vehicle back by Saturday because I needed it for work.
Matthew acknowledged this and warned that parts may not be in stock, which was fine, as long as the vehicle was returned to me Saturday.
We even established that I could bring it back the following weekend. That was the last moment in this saga that contained any logic.
Friday evening, I dropped off the vehicle and listed TWO issues. A rattling underneath. A shaking at speeds over seventy miles per hour.
Two items. Not a treasure hunt. Not a “choose your own adventure” novel. Just two issues. Saturday morning, I checked the service hours and saw they closed at three. Since it was nearly noon and I had not heard from anyone,
and knowing I needed the vehicle back before they closed, I called. A woman explained that two technicians had called out.
I empathized, and I reiterated that I needed the vehicle back. As in, the same day. As in, the entire reason I scheduled it this way.
She acknowledged that dropping it off had been an inconvenience as she probably could not get to it.
That is the understatement of the decade. Forty five minutes later, she called back and said they had taken the vehicle in.
She then announced that the vehicle had multiple issues. A revelation that was impressive, considering they sold me this vehicle
less than twelve months prior.
She stated parts would need to be ordered, the warranty reviewed (even though I bought it there), and she would update me Monday.
Once again, I repeated that the vehicle needed to come home. That is when she informed me that if I took my own vehicle back,
I would owe three diagnostic fees or two diagnostic fees and a deductible. The grand total approached five hundred dollars.
Apparently, the dealership had decided to moonlight as a pawn shop, because at this point they were holding my vehicle hostage.
Can you imagine dropping your vehicle off with no understanding that anything would be out of pocket, no work was done,
and being told you must pay $500.00 to pick it back up just to drop it off again the following week?
My frustration was approaching performance art. I brought it in for an alignment issue and a rattling sound. TWO issues.
An alignment check never incurs a diagnostic fee at any tire shop in America, yet here I was being informed that retrieving my car
required paying for diagnostics on issues I never mentioned or authorized. What should have been a simple visit mutated into a situation
where the dealership behaved as though they had discovered buried treasure under the hood and were charging me for the excavation.
The situation was eventually partially resolved when I was graciously informed about thirty minutes later that they would only charge
one diagnostic fee, just under two hundred dollars, to return my own vehicle to me. Monday arrived and there was no call. No email.
Nothing. This was an impressive feat of customer avoidance.
On Tuesday at 4:30 p.m. I called them myself. I was then told I would receive a call Wednesday morning. That led to the email referenced
in our last discussion. To say I am frustrated would require inventing new understatement categories. The customer service I received was not merely disappointing.
It was the sort of performance that makes one question the entire concept of service departments as a civilization.
Now that the vehicle has been returned, I can smell exhaust inside the cabin. A problem that did not exist before. Somehow, the vehicle
came back worse after being examined for issues that were never actually repaired. Truly an extraordinary accomplishment. Knowing they were supposed to call on Monday and did not, knowing I waited most of the day Tuesday for them to demonstrate even a flicker
of professional responsibility, and they did not, and knowing that when I finally called at 4:30 p.m. Tuesday, I was told I would receive a call
Wednesday, the performance continued. They did call Wednesday, and I asked for an email summarizing the situation, which they provided—yet with
the breathtaking absence of accountability one might expect from a toddler caught drawing on the walls.
I replied, and suddenly the service manager appeared in the conversation, as though summoned by the sheer gravitational pull of incompetence.
At this point we were seven days in. Parts were allegedly being ordered, heads were allegedly nodding in agreement, and everyone allegedly understood
that the smell of exhaust in the cabin was enough to make a person rethink their will to live. Eighteen days later, I sent a follow up email. Nothing. Not a syllable. Not a grunt. Not a single blinking cursor of acknowledgment from the dealership.
The next day, nineteen days in, I followed up again. They replied and announced that the springs for the struts were on backorder. That was it.
No elaboration. No reassurance. No timeline. Just a declaration that conveyed the emotional energy of a parking ticket. At twenty days, I asked if they would be open the day after Thanksgiving. The response was a masterpiece of vagueness.
“The parts are still on backorder.” No estimated arrival. No next steps. Nothing.
At twenty six days, naturally, there was no reply. A full week later, a single email appeared stating—with the enthusiasm of a houseplant—that they were
still waiting on the springs and it looked like next week. At this point, I informed them we had reached thirty days since our initial contact, which was actually thirty four days if one counts the days the dealership
apparently lost in the cushions of a couch. I explained again that the exhaust smell was intolerable and that we at least needed that portion of the work completed.
We reached the groundbreaking agreement that I could drop the vehicle off Friday evening, December 12th, and pick it up Saturday because, astonishingly,
I still needed transportation to go to work.
Then came the next plot twist. I was told there was a possibility the vehicle would be opened up and not finished. Naturally, I asked about their loaner program,
which they advertise with great enthusiasm. The reply was that they were ten deep and that a loaner was doubtful. A bold marketing strategy indeed. To conclude this forty five day odyssey: if you are seeking a salesperson who will excitedly assure you that you are receiving a bumper to bumper warranty
because you are buying the most expensive warranty package available, only to later discover that the phrase bumper to bumper is apparently interpretive fiction,
this is your place. You may even receive an email as elegantly crafted as the one I received, detailing that the struts are leaking, the springs need replacing,
the insulators and strut tops are your financial burden, the exhaust has multiple leaks, and nearly every meaningful repair resides outside the sanctuary of your
so called coverage. The final tally of uncovered items reads like the bill for a small used boat.
If you enjoy waiting days or even weeks for a basic reply to a basic email, you will flourish here. If you prefer an establishment that understands customer service
as something more substantial than performance art, I advise you to take your business elsewhere. This dealership would not recognize customer service even if it
introduced itself with a firm handshake. I regret ever buying my 2022 Suburban here, the experience has been mentally tolling. Save yourself the trouble,
read the rest of the reviews... Run.