There I was trying to read my book but all the cussing, yelling, and screaming less than five feet away was distracting enough that I finally put the book down and just listened. It doesn't happen too often that I find a conversation in a car dealership that interesting to listen too.
When we bought our last vehicle, it came with two years of "free" servicing so I had ours in for its 15,000 mile servicing. This is a Toyota dealership by the way. The couple next to me had brought in their Nissan for some work and a representative came back to tell them that the "noise" they were hearing was simply worn out brake pads and since they were a Toyota dealership that didn't stock Nissan parts, he was calling around to get pricing on them. Immediately the man launched into a tirade that would make a sailor blush.
Using four letter words every other word, he proceeded to yell that he bought that with a warranty that was bumper to bumper. The representative with the patience of Job and the vocabulary of a priest, patiently explained that while yes he does have such a warranty, it doesn't cover wearable items like brake pads, windshield wipers, tires, etc. They would prorate them if the wear was abnormal but since the car was well over a year old, they would still have to pay for brake pads.
While the tirade of cussing got even louder, I felt painfully exposed sitting less than five feet away pretending that I wasn't in the "room" which essentially was just a glassed in corner of the showroom floor with a few chairs and a magazine rack. Other people on the other side of the divider stopped to take in the show which made me even more conscious of being on display even though I'm sure their attention was five feet to my left. Finally through the f-bombs, everyone in the building understood that this couple wanted to speak to the "highest authority" they could and the representative graciously said he would go locate that person.
For the next five minutes I listened to the couple as they gradually started to wind down their cussing and decibel levels all the while extorting how they had never heard of such a warranty that didn't cover brake pads. "Who would think that brake pads weren't covered?" they loudly exclaimed over and over. Not wanting to get shot or even roughed up a little, I kept my arms at my side and my lips zipped.
Finally the "highest authority" came and ushered them into a side room for a conversation so I didn't hear the rest of it. I'm sure it ended with threats that they were never coming there again but since they had a Nissan and were in a Toyota dealership, I'm not sure any sleep will be lost over it. I can't help but wonder where they are going to go to get their brakes fixed next. Poor representative.