My experience with Mullinax Ford Service reads like a masterclass in how to mismanage even the simplest tasks. I wish I could give them a “0,” but apparently, that isn’t an option.
It began in April, when I scheduled service because my car couldn’t connect to Wi-Fi, use the FordPass app, or download software updates — features advertised as standard. On drop-off day, I heard nothing until 2:30 PM, when they asked to keep it overnight. I was out of town, so fine. The next morning, still radio silence. When I called, I learned my APIM was faulty — yet, naturally, not fixable that day. Another appointment required.
I gave clear instructions for the car’s return: park it, lock it, leave the keys in the console, and note that I was unavailable 1–3 PM. Predictably, the valet called repeatedly during that 1–3 PM window, claimed there were no instructions, and returned the car to the dealership. After repeating the instructions, they finally delivered it correctly. One miscommunication? Perhaps. A pattern was emerging.
Early May appointment: same story. My car goes in, and by 2 PM, a call arrives: they want to keep it overnight “to really address the issue” — the issue being replacing a part. I explained that was impossible. Weeks later, the next available appointment was August 11. I cleared my schedule, arranged alternate transportation, and gave them two full days to install the APIM.
August 11: roughly 90 minutes after drop-off, I received a call asking — wait for it — why I had brought the car in. I reminded them that this was the APIM replacement appointment, long scheduled. “Oh, okay. We’ll take a look at that,” they said. Hours later, they determined the APIM was indeed faulty — the same conclusion from April — but, shockingly, didn’t have the part. And a $300 diagnostic fee, because why not charge me to be told what I already knew?
I contacted the service manager, outlined the full sequence of errors, and he waived the fee, promising that at the next appointment, the APIM would be replaced, a recall would be fixed, and my car returned on time. Optimism, cautiously held.
Two days before September 12, I received confirmation for 9:00 AM. At 9:30, my car sat untouched at work. When I called, I learned the appointment was “actually” at 11:00. Valet pickup, they said, occurs 8–10 AM. My car wasn’t picked up until after 11.
The recall repair was postponed; the APIM update would proceed. I agreed, provided the car returned by a hard afternoon deadline. Fifteen minutes before that deadline, still no word. A call revealed it wouldn’t be ready. Loaner and driver offered — but they couldn’t accommodate a short stop at my house. I borrowed a friend’s car, had mine dropped off later.
Upon return, the under-radio charging port no longer worked. The recall remained. I contacted the sales manager: apologies, promises, and assurances that I’d be contacted once new rentals were available. Seven weeks later: radio silence.
Every interaction required repeating instructions multiple times, chasing updates at the last minute, and confirming details they claimed to know. They forgot appointments, called during periods I was explicitly unavailable, failed to order necessary parts, and repeatedly acted as if my prior communications didn’t exist. It’s almost impressive how consistently they mismanage basic tasks.
After months of chaos, empty assurances, and communication so bad it borders on performance art, one thing is crystal clear: this isn’t just bad service — it’s a masterclass in how to drive customers away. If their goal was to convince me never to set foot there again, congratulations… mission accomplished.
