People in management that often have bad judgement is to the people they are supposed to manage, their judgement is good for themselves or who they are trying to impress/please and then don't have the balls to enforce the rules.. ..Thats one of the reasons I retired early..
My experience over the years is that many people in management got that way because they were not capable of doing the job that they were trying to manage. It should not ever happen that way but it is a common thing at least here in the mid west. I was working R&D in for a firm that built equipment for the high tech industry once and pointed out to the owner/CEO of the company that the manager of the sheet metal shop was dumb as a post. he laughed and said, "Well it would not make good sense to pull someone who is capable off the floor. Why would you take a capable craftsman out of production when there are plenty of non producers to choose from." That seems to be the norm here. of course that has nothing to do with dealer stories. I worked for a Buick dealer in San Francisco for a while one time, my main job was to fish broken bolts out of Buicks. When I decided I had milked that job long enough I showed the shop manager how to turn the air down. Power tools can be a bad thing in the hands of a chimp.
The "Peter Principle" of management theory says that people will get promotions until they rise into a job they are incapable of performing.
Bought an OT new muscle car from Galpin Ford in the SF Valley. Got a good price, was treated very well by knowledgeable people. Got prompt service, they washed and vacuumed it out even after an oil change. Even sent me a box of cookies at Christmas! Guess it depends on what dealer you deal with!
Gary you just hit the nail on the head. Everyone will rant about their bad experience at a dealership ( or a hardware store, the hospital, Wal-Mart, their kids coach or the bad cop or whatever...) Hardly anyone ever talks about their great experience at the dealership of which there are many, but most go untold. Thank you Gary............now back to our regular scheduled program.
Another possible factor in setting dealership policy is competition. Every dealer in an area is in competition with every other, and in DIRECT competition with same-brand dealers. If one dealer stepped out of line and waived doc fees, they'd put themselves at a disadvantage, as their prices would show as being higher than others. I'm not alibi-ing, just trying to see the possible reasons behind business decisions. I try to remember that almost all the amazing cars and trucks on the HAMB originally came from a dealership, and might have passed through a few more over the years. Up to the '60s I think it was still possible to order a car from the factory and pick it up yourself. Not too many folks did that, compared to the convenience of shopping at a local dealer. And I'll never forget the excitement of new model year displays. So I'm not entirely convinced that this is an OT thread.
I worked at a, VW, Suzuki, Subaru, dealer in the 70"s We got in a pair of the new Samarai's, first in the bay area to have them, the owner had every one in the shop at once to check out the New line we were going to be selling, at the end of the presentation, he had the lube oil boy take it to the detail shop, the owner told the lube boy to read the sticker on the sunvisor about roller potential, well you guessed it he took for a short ride came down the hill and hooked the turn, up and over it went, it took 6 mechanics to roll it right side up, next day we had a persentation same Sami but a whole different discussion
I once worked at a shop that had a painter who had started in the business in 1959. He told me that if the customer didn't find anything to pick at upon delivery, we were doing too good a job. I hate comebacks
This was in 1980 or so. I'm working in a Cadillac dealership for only a short while and this old guy about 70 walks in. He has a briefcase and a suit on, very distinguished. Figure he's dropping off a car for service. Wrong... he was their pinstriper. They'd line up some cars for him to do and he'd come in and bang them out. The suit jacket came off, he put in in the customer's back seat and he went to work, in the tie and all. In his case was a fifth of something and he would sip some from a paper cup as he worked. Never saw him sloshed or with a speck of paint on his clothes either.
LOL I wonder how he pulled that off back then. It was nothing like today when every slob and their illegitimate cousin has a cell phone to shoot video with. My grandma bought a brand new valiant from Bay Shore Chrysler Plymouth way back when by the way.
Having worked for two large (for area) dealerships one Ferd (crooked dude did time) & Dodge (a legit 5 star) you have making a profit or making a killing mentality. Buyer beware.
Talk about taking out the front line, this happened in my town. http://www.onlyoswego.com/2014/08/10/45118/oswego-man-charged-in-rollover-accident In 91 a friend and I stopped for lunch and saw the dealership across the street had a 5.0 mustang, sedan with trunk in medium blue metallic, the salesman was pushing us for a test drive saying they really sell themselves once you drive them. I'd had a few of 'em by then and was very familiar. Pulled out of the dealership and he told me to go down 2 lights and there was a nice road where we could see what it'd do. I rolled through the light in second, dropped a gear and threw it sideways andlet it straighten up as I went back into second, wound it hard thru the gears while the saleman is screamin. I pulled over at his insistence, he's fumin, but he can't drive a stick so he makes my buddy drive back. We get in the car as he's saying just take it easy, yep, dump the clutch and 180 to get it turned around and back thru the gears. We get back and jump outta the car and start walkin, we were parked a the restaurant still. He never got our names or licenses. Sucker.
One of the Mopar stores I worked at had the key board behind the chick tower in the showroom, next to a row of those half high walls for the sales cubicles. I'm searching through a zillion tagged keys for my next victim when I heard the following conversation, between a sales droid and some guy and his mom. I think the car they were in love with was a Granada or some such thing. [this was years ago, so the numbers, but not the reload, are approximations.] "Well we paid $4500 and then you said it needed an inspection so we paid the $300 for that then another $400 for hubcaps. Now it's gonna cost another $500. When can we get our car? [the car was worth about $2500 retail at the time.] Salesman: well the government won't let us release the car until... Meanwhile, back in the back life carried on. What was cool about the place was that the warranty time books weren't in the warranty chick's cubicle, they were right on the parts counter [on the mechanic's side, not the retail side] Every wrench knows warranty times really suck, so the pen must be mightier than the wrench. Having the books, though, really made life good. I think the first job I pulled was changing the case on a 727 in a van and I was bummed when the book showed the time at 6.2 or something. Then one of the old guys says "gimme that work order" and when he was done it was over 9 hours. Life was good. Then, one day when I went in to get some parts the books were gone, and I noticed the warranty chick was sitting in her cube, crying and there were two unknown suits strutting around. Mopar came down hard on the dealership because their costs were toooo high and you almost had to phone Detroit to have a dump after that.
In about '67 or so I traded into a 66 Satellite, Hemi 4 speed. Taught me a lot about living on Kraft dinner etc. By '68 or so I realized I needed to get something more practical for all the driving I was doing and had the bright idea of selling the Hemi and it's driveline separate from the car. More money in the end. Found a sick, fat 318, trans and 8 3/4 axle. Went through the 318 and put it in the Satellite and sold it. Bought a 69 Dart 340 that I factory ordered. [put 107,000 miles on it in 12 months, I was doing a lot of driving] The 426 sat in the display window in a 2 bay service station but it didn't sell. Eventually a friend and fellow wrench found a dude that was interested. He, too had a 69 340 Dart 4 speed, which I took on trade and sold. After a few months the guy phones up and says there is no way his dad can do the swap, in spite of his earlier assurances. So we dragged everything back to the city and went at it in my buddies driveway. Hemi mounts are different than anything else, so we talked to Grand Spaulding's parts dept and ordered a Hemi A body crossmember. Got an alignment wrench we knew to put it in but when we lowered the 426 in there was no way. Seems the parts guy sent us one for a B engine, not a Hemi. So, back in goes the original K and we made brackets for it and the engine. Also had to make the B body headers work. Put in the Dana 60 and all the other goodies. It was running, but ragged, with the carbs gummed up from sitting, some exhaust leaks etc but we had it at the 2 bay garage for some finishing touches. Needed an intake for a 440 we were also selling so I had the bright idea of putting some miles on the Dart by driving it across town to get the parts. So away we go. It ran fine on the front 2 barrels of the rear carb but open the progressive linkage a bit and the front carb sometimes worked and sometimes didn't. Also, I had changed the cam from a really aggressive Crane to a stocker but hadn't gotten around to lowering the idle speed from 2100 down to 800 or so needed with the stocker. A Hemi is pretty loud even with a decent exhaust, but this puppy had some leaks. About a mile away from the shop, on a city street who do I see coming towards us but a cop car. No problem, I though, even though I'm driving uphill I'll just clutch it and switch off the engine when the cop gets close. No way was that engine stopping from 2100 and the cop gave me the eyeball before he even got close. There was a bend in the road and a cross street so it was exit, stage left. No problem, I can still get to the highway. Just a few blocks from the highway I see another cop car turning onto the road I am on and detect negative body language but as luck would have it there was another bug out road so stage right it is. It dawned on us that this was just not working out, so I threaded my way back to the garage, which was on a main street, at a cross street with a signal. Driving down the main street, just before the cross street here comes another cop car. When I drive past he tries to make a 180 but luckily someone's grammaw does a total befuddle and meanwhile I made a quick left and bugged out. Or tried to. Stuffed my boot in it and those plugged up carters worked for a few seconds then bog city. The cop never saw which way I went, it turned out so he chose right instead of left. Now, the usual crowd of losers and hangers on at the station had seen all this and they were gathered in a herd at the intersection enjoying the show and beaking off etc. Looping through the back streets after turning left, I was able to get to the cross street that led to the station, but there was the little matter of catching the signal light on green. I came down the street looking all round and setting up for the light. About 4-5 blocks down I saw the black and white sitting off the left side of the road,. He didn't appear to see the Dart right away so I'm moving fairly slowly towards the light [and him] preying for the light to change. Just as it changed, gravel spewed out behind the cop car and the race to the garage was on. I forgot about the gummed up carbs and booted it. The Hemi bogged, backfired, and then suddenly pulled clean and strong, making the rear tires go up in smoke and that old Dana powr-lok start spinning it sideways. I somehow got out of it, grabbed a gear and got the Dart moving, fifty feet or so past the intersection was the ramp into the garage parking lot. I pulled up beside my own 340 Dart, clutched it dead and we ran for the crowd. Oddly enough, both Darts were the same color: red. In the few seconds it took for the cops to get there, all there was to see were two red '69 Darts and about 10-12 morons standing around laughing and acing like fools. Cops were pissed but they never got out of the car, or even paid close enough attention because in my hurry to bail I forgot to turn off the Carter electric fuel pump which was plumbed in series with the stock fuel pump and had a switch under the dash. So it was sitting there howling until the cops left. Good thing those AFB floats held [for once.] Later we got the happy new owner to meet us at the garage with lots of really nice ca$h and sent him on his way back to the country. We even followed at a distance but as luck would have it, not a cop car was seen.
It didn't get the chance to reach the lift, from what I know per the insurance that tried to sell it to our shop : the customer of that said old car dealer sent his car to them via a car carrier not to put too many miles on it and to be safe, just to fall of the trailer while unloading. In my opinion it was a great candidate for a custom with carson top rebuild, but certainly not a profitable resto like the insurance was selling it.
Back to the Olds dealership - as part of my duties I'd have to clean up the cars that came out of the body shop. So I's have to clean all the bondo dust and stuff out of them. I learned pretty quick to blow out the air vents and such because the dust got everywhere. I was cleaning up a Cutlass, a 75 442 that had been hit on the RR quarter. I was finishing the inside and remembered I hadn't checked the glove box. Sometimes the dust would get in the lip of the door a bit. So I open the flip door and there's a plastic - 'male appendage' stuffed in there. The damn think had to be 12-13 inches. Just huge. When the lady came to pick it up, it was my English composition teacher from school, and she went to my church too. I could not look the lady in the face ever again.
in my early twenties, I was working as a tech. Guy brings in a fairly new chevy van for an oil change and rotate. when I get the van in the air, the drain plug is round (as in American lube fasted). I drain the oil, and let the car down, so i can check all the fluids while I'm waiting. customer comes storming out, "Whats taking so F*&%ing long? give me my damn keys" were all trying to explain to him whats going on, and he's to hurried to listen. He starts the van, runs over the lift arms , and tears out of there like Mario Andretti. My boss comes over and says "well, I guess he won't be back" I smile, hold up the drain plug, and say "oh yes he will!" He didnt make it to the end of the road....
LOL car dealer stories, some are fun some are just to hard to follow. You got to love a dealer with a sense of humor. I was in Wichita for the tornado on labor day weekend in I think '92. The storm managed to hit dealer row, and we went up to review the damage. There were lots of cars tore up and when we were passing the Honda lot, in this row of totally trashed new cars there was one that looked like other then some leaves and stuff on it was untouched. The Owner of the lot was there and he stopped in the middle of his crisis management to talk to me long enough to ask if he couldn't interest me in the car in question. He said that it is the rare woody model, then he motioned me around the other side of the car where I could see a chunk of telephone pole that was shoved through the driver's door. We laughed really hard for a while before he went back into damage control mode.
The Jalopy Journal
