That goodwill does not, as of today, extend unto Mercedes-Benz UK.
The Darling G ordered her new company car - a C-Class estate with a few tweaks - back at the beginning of November. "There are a couple of parts on back-order", said the dealer. "But you'll be on the build list, so you should have it by the end of February. We'll keep you updated".
No updates were forthcoming, of course.
A call at the end of November intimated, but didn't confirm, that the delivery date might be pushed back to March 2010 - which is bad enough for a mass-produced fleet car, but still we kept our peace. Cue today's update call.
The dealer was advised on 5 December that the earliest delivery date for our New Shiny Car would be June. June! Eight months from the point of order to the point of delivery?
What form of fucking insanity is this? You're building a car, not painting the Sistine Fucking Chapel! You claim to be waiting for engine parts - quite frankly, you could hand-tool the parts from purest Unobtanium using nothing but stone-age flint tools in eight months, yet clearly you prefer to sit idly on your Germanic backsides expecting your buyers to show the patience of fucking Ghandi while they wait for you to get around to sticking another fucking order in for widgets.
Did I miss the memo? When was Mercedes-Benz taken over by fucking British Leyland? Are you waiting to rebuild Longbridge before building another fucking car? And don't even get me started on the laissez-faire attitude of a dealer network that thinks it's OK not to bother to keep customers informed of the delay to their order.
So, Mercedes-Benz? Stick your order where the sun shineth not - it's become painfully clear that the name C-Class defines your quality of service. You should be impaled on your own three-pointed star. And then set on fire, though it would probably take you eight months to wait for the matches.
Mercedes-Benz. Teutonic Twats.