These are the brakes!

At the risk of turning this blog into a rant-fest, I just wanted to share a recent crazy experience I had with a local brake repair shop.

A little background: My trusty Toyota Corolla had run like a top since I bought it in 2002, needing only oil changes and the occasional alignment. Part of the reason is that I don’t really drive that much; I’ve averaged about 4,000 miles each of the last four years, and that includes several out-of-state road trips. However, in the last 12 months, I passed 90,000 miles, and repairs have been catching up with me. Last summer the starter went out. Then the steering wheel started shaking at high speeds, a quirk that a realignment and tire rotation helped but never cured. In January, a big one: my power steering system failed, including the pump and rotary valve, and during the harrowing drive to the nearest shop my car overheated. Still paying off the good people at American Express for that one. At the time, my car was inspected and I was told everything looked good except for “some brake wear” that might need to be addressed “down the road.”

Upon arriving in Dallas (towing the car on a trailer, not driving), I noticed a metallic squealing whenever I braked. Drawing upon my vast knowledge of auto maintenance, I quickly realized I needed new brake-thingies.

One of the worst parts about moving to a new place is that you need to find all new “guys” for things: car guy, hair guy/gal, weed guy, etc. Instead, I picked a shop that sounded like what I needed: “Just Brakes.” They even advertised a $99.88 special on brake shoes and pads. I scheduled an 8:30 am appointment so I could get it in first thing Saturday and not spend all day in the waiting room.

My first warning sign should have been when I arrived just after their opening, with an appointment, and was told they were already running a couple hours behind. They told me they’d call me around 11, so I took the bus back home instead of waiting there.

At 2:30, I got a call telling me that my brake system had a number of things wrong with it. The guy sounded like he was reading from a script, and while some repairs at least sounded legit (“worn pads,” “bent calipers”), others sounded dubious at best (“dirt and grime”, “corrosion on metal works”). The damage was going to be $650, and the best I could talk him down to was $350. Alas, “company policy” prevented him from just performing the work covered under the special. I called his bluff, and told him to put the car back together and write down the litany of problems so I could get a second opinion.

When I got back to the shop an hour later, my right front tire was completely flat. When I asked the mechanic “what the hell happened?,” he told me that it was fine when they put it on and that “slow leaks happen” and that there was no reason for me to “cuss him out.” It took the “let me see a manager routine” for him to fill up my tire with air.

A week later, my tire was still fine. I have no clue whether the tire was flat due to retribution or incompetence, but I’m sure as hell glad I didn’t let them work on my car. I ended up getting work done for $200 at a more reputable shop after asking around. And, as it turns out, the internet is full of similar anecdotes to mine, with customers either paying upwards of $900 for unnecessary or incompetent brake jobs, or having their cars sabotaged via superglued lugnuts, brake pads installed backwards, cars held overnight, and the like.

Today’s takeaway lesson: don’t trust anyone.