I'm not sure I can find quite the words that will truly encapsulate my nefarious experience here, but I can certainly try.
About a month ago, my car decided to break down on me, right off the side street where this aamco was located. At first i thought to myself, "What could be better than breaking down virtually in front of an auto repair shop?!". To make it even more of a gem, one of the mechanics eagerly offered to help push my vehicle into the parking lot only several hundred feet away.
As soon as my car had been out of the street, I went inside to speak with the man at the 'front desk' (which in reality was a desk in room that could barely fit me, my buddy, and the man sitting behind the desk). There was no a/c, no breeze, and the smell of gasoline, oil, and other automotive smells that filled the pocket sized establishment. But, nonetheless this was an auto shop, and the least of my priorities.
I discussed the issues I had up until the incident of my car breaking down, and J.R., who I assumed to be a glorified desk jockey, explained to the best of his abilities what he thought the issues may be. I decided to leave my vehicle there for a few days while it had a couple of minor repairs while the larger ones were diagnosed.
A couple of days later, I received a call from J.R., stating that the vehicle had had it's battery terminal connectors replaced (yes, plural, but I will get back to that later), as well as a battery hold down kit put in. He also mentioned that the alternator was putting out just under 14 volts, and he suggested it be replaced. I decided to come pick up the vehicle, and take my time to think about whether I would be replacing my alternator yet.
Now, nowhere in this conversation did J.R. mention the car didn't drive. Thus, I came back to pick up what I thought was my running vehicle.
To my dismay, when I spoke to another man behind the desk now, Tom, I was told it does not run. He explained it needed an alternator to be driveable. We went over prices, and I decided that I would ship them my own choice of alternator.
A few days later, I received a call that the alternator I had shipped aamco had been installed. I decided I would ask for a quote for one more part to be put on - which ended up being ridiculously overpriced (a fuel filter for an '05 Mustang priced at $150, plus tax), but more importantly found out that there would be an additional charge of 25 percent on my alternator installation because it did not come from them. Would have been understandable initially, but again, this was never mentioned by one of the workers here.
Arriving shortly after, I grabbed my keys, giddy to drive away and finally have my baby back. But, just to be on the safe side, I figured I mise well check my engine bay and the work that had been done.
I checked the alternator - looked great. Then, the battery terminal connector....wait, didn't they say terminal connectorS? As in, both? Why yes, they did. It was even stated on the statement printed out in front of me. But that wasn't all. The one connector that had been replaced was a monstrosity. It appeared to be much worse than before, with what they describe to be as some sort of 'grease' all over it, the whole part looking like it had been hit repeatedly by a hammer. Not to mention, the battery hold down kit was already rusted.
I explained these issues as soon as I found them to J.R.
J.R. gave the battery, then me, the look of utter confusion. It was as if I had presented him with a problem in quantum mechanics. He was truly lost.
He proceeded to tell me he had no idea what he was talking about, and went to go show me what a new one looked like. He brought out the new terminal connector, and it looked completely different. Because, well, it hadn't been destroyed like the one on my vehicle. I continued to explain to him in the most sincere way possible I did not believe it looked the same, and about the battery terminal issue. J.R. grew irritated, quite quickly I must add. He reassured me with a fierce tone he had no idea what he was talking about.
A couple of minutes later, J.R. could no longer control his temper. Right before cursing excessively, insulting me and my vehicle, he stormed off into his Dodge ram only to accelerate as fast as he could right back up behind my vehicle.
Two of the other workers came out to discuss. They were Tom, and the other's name rains unknown. Although they were much more rational, I wasn't entirely thrilled with the lack of understanding. J.R. remained in his excessively loud Dodge truck, idling behind me for several minutes before he sped off down the road.
So, in short, how would I describe my experience here? Some words come to mind: atrocious, pitiful, shell-shocking, unfathomable. I truly, truly hope no one will ever have to come here to live through such a horrendous mockery of what should have been an auto repair business. read more