Lying Nazi VW

VW screws me again

If you get the chance, give one of the fine “folk” at Volkswagen a poke in the eye for me — those manipulating little fat bastards.

First, they lie about the emissions on their diesel cars, and I’m dumb enough to buy one. When the shit hits the fan, they sent out two $500 gift cards – one you can use anywhere, one only at VW dealers.

How nice, $1000 to grease the poop shoot while I wait for them to really screw me in the law suit.

So I wait to use the cards on my next repair — 80,000 mile tune up is about $1000. It’s worth doing the repair, because I have their debit cards. Without the cards, I’d let the gray pooter rot. It’s going to end up in a landfill anyway. Even Fahrvegnugen (remember that bullshit TV ad) isn’t going to save this piece of crap.

Last week, I take the diesel in, get the bill, pull out the VW cards….

“I’m sorry sir, these cards expired in Nov. 2016,” the cashier says. “But they usually renew them when you call customer service. I’m afraid we can’t do it for you.”

So I put the bill on my cc, and call customer service. 30 minutes on hold just to be told: “You should have read the agreement more carefully,” says the woman who has some kind of accent I can’t place. She could have a speech impediment (or maybe she was from Wisconsin), or it could have been just a hint of a condescending German tone like Dieter on SNL. I kept waiting for her to say “Touch my Monkey.”

I’d kicked your little monkey in the balls right now…

Bottom line, no renewal on debit cards, no help with cost of this repair, no apology for consistently lying to me, no discount offer on repair or further service…

I did get a car wash — only cost me $925.

Next day the VW sales team calls me. Clearly it was some FNG (that’s Fucking New Guy for you douchebag millennials) with a bullshit white-boy name like Brandon, or Braydon, or Bran-fucking-muffin.

“Sir, we would like to speak to you about the value of your car – it is in high demand right now.”

In less than 10 seconds, his “manager” was on the line. “I’m sorry about this, sir. We had no idea you had a diesel. We will be glad to handle your ‘appointment’ when you choose to trade in the vehicle.”

No help with the credit card issue, no help with repair cost. Just more buttery bullshit delivered in a “soothing voice” like I’m a god damn mental patient.

All I can say is the next time I go into that dealership, they all better be wearing safety glasses… cause I might just go all Moe Howard on those fat bastards.


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