Took my Trans Am to the dealer yesterday morning. I guess I’m a glutton for punishment, because that’s all I ever seem to get from visiting the local Pontiac dealers. I wouldn’t keep going there, but GM will not honor the terms of their extended warranties (or factory warranties for that matter) unless the work is done by a GM dealer. So, since my extended warranty expires at the end of June and I need possibly expensive stuff done, this was the course of action I took.

Here’s what I wanted looked at.

• Weird clunking and friction sounds from rear differential (probably limited slip clutches).
• Driver’s side mirror glass falling out of housing.
• Speakers in both doors sound fuzzy.
• Power steering pump excessively noisy; could be indicitave of impending failure.
• HVAC fan buzzes loudly at higher speeds.

Here’s what the assistant service manager of the dealer reported to me today upon telling me the car was ready to be picked up.

• Could not reproduce the sound from the rear.
• Mirror glass had come unmounted, so they remounted it.
• Special ordered speakers for the doors.
• Didn’t see anything wrong with power steering pump.
• Fixed fan noise by removing buildup of leaves in the shroud, which costs me $68.

Oh goody! Yet another fruitful and productive trip to the dealer service department.

Let’s see. “Could not reproduce the sound from the rear.” This is the third time I have been told that. Each time I leave increasingly detailed and specific instructions on how to reproduce the sound, and still, for all that, after several people at the dealer drive the car, no one can reproduce them. I simply cannot fathom this. There is no way in hell that I can get in my car and drive it six feet without it creaking and groaning and complaining from the rear differential. I’m faced with it every day. Every move the car makes produces the sound. I gave them but a small sampling of examples. And yet, they can find nothing. This one issue alone would be enough for me to sell this car because it is THAT irritating. How can they not hear it? How? Even one of the alignment techs at the Goodyear shop heard it once, and that was without my even asking him to listen for it!

My dad suggested to me that when we dropped the car off, I should have somebody go out in it with me so I could reproduce that noise for them. It sounded like a good idea, but since my last dealer visit, I had found such a 100% conclusive way to reproduce the sound, I didn’t think it possible that it might be missed. Guess I should never underestimate these guys.

Let’s see what else. Well, they fixed my side mirror, at least. Now I can safely execute lane changes without scrunching down into my seat and peering upwards at the mirror glass from below the door sill. Of course, it was the dealer that broke the mirror in the first place. At least they didn’t try to charge me. I’m absolutely certain that if the glass had been in any way damaged—cracked, etc.—they would have sent me a bill, and then I would have had to argue a losing case.

Moving on. The speakers. I had my car into the dealer in December because the driver’s side door speaker was fuzzy as shit. When I got the car back, not only was that speaker still fuzzy as shit, but the passenger door speaker was too. In December, they had to special order speakers, so I had to take my car to the dealer on two separate occasions. All for nothing. Now we get to do it again; I have to go back once they get the friggin’ parts a second time. This time I will not leave with the vehicle until I’m certain they fixed the goddamn thing.

Next. Couldn’t find anything wrong with the power steering pump. This reminds me of the AOL service rep who doesn’t want to do anything about the fact that your 1500/128 broadband connection is operating at 216/40. “Is it above 200? Well, that’s broadband. Have a good day,” he says, and hangs up. My power steering pump may be noisy and it may be doomed to fail, but it’s working now, and that’s good enough for the boys at GM. Looks like I’m going to either have to put up with my car going WEEEEEEEEEEEE obnoxiously every time I make a turn, or pay hundreds to replace the pump myself.

Leaves in the fan! Leaves in the fan! I love it. I wish I’d known for SURE it was leaves in the fan, because I’d imagine I could have solved that problem myself. Should have checked that before I took it in, I guess. But I didn’t know where to look, since I don’t know how the HVAC system is configured on my car. My ignorance ended up costing me 68 bucks. That’s 68 bucks I could have spent on trying to determine why my ‘89 Formula uses more gasoline than a Hummer stuck in first gear.

It was really amazing, talking to the assistant service manager on the phone this afternoon as he read off this list of stuff to me. The man was basically yawning, glossing over everything like it didn’t matter. “Power steering, yeah, couldn’t find nothing wrong there…yep yep…” This was the assistant service manager, mind. When I dropped the car off, and he asked me what I wanted done, I began by explaining that I had the GM Major Guard warranty and expected everything I was requesting to be covered by it, and if it wasn’t, I wanted to be notified before any work was done that would cost me money out-of-pocket. As I was saying these words, the guy was waving his arms around at me, and when I closed my mouth, he impatiently exclaimed, “Yeah, but what are we DOING??” “I’M GETTING TO THAT!” I snapped back. Does anyone even begin to understand why I feel like a fucking tin hat paranoid when I think of things wrong with my car? Why I sometimes don’t even get things serviced because I think no one will believe me when I say they need servicing?

So here I am, going to get my ass up at 5:50 a.m. tomorrow morning so I can go down there and pick up the car. Then on Thursday, I get to get up early again to go have new tires mounted. Then I get to get up early a third time to take the T/A back to the dealer and have them replace the speakers in my doors, and maybe then I can tie the service manager to the seat, back the car up at six miles an hour and in three seconds reproduce the clunky posi sound, just like I do every single goddamn morning when I pull the motherfucker out of the garage and it sounds like I’m taking a $500 Gremlin to work instead of a $30,000 Trans Am.

What makes me really sick is that this just adds fuel to the fire of people who hate American cars and love to make fun of people like me for buying and driving them. And how can I argue? Even though at least 50% of the crap I endure with this car is the direct result of a bunch of service technicians who are incompetent and could not be less interested in pleasing their customers, I could never win an argument like that.

Fuck you, GM. As long as I live in this bastard-hole state of Florida, where no one at your dealers can tell a car from their ass end, I’ll never buy another one of your cars. Ever.