Recently, I took my wife’s low-mileage (under 20,000 miles) used Lexus RX 350 to our local dealership for routine maintenance: an oil change, a new battery, and possibly tires. Having spent over half my life working in and around powersports and RV dealerships, I know what good (and bad) service looks like and I’m probably not the easiest customer when standards slip. But hey, we’re all customers sometimes.
People choose Lexus for two main reasons: they have the income to afford it, and they expect and are willing to pay for exceptional quality and care. Lexus has built its brand around this for nearly four decades.
For context, here are a few of the core Japanese philosophies Lexus often highlights (time to brush up on your terms!):
Lexus weaves these into everything from vehicle design to customer service. As someone who’s endured the daily grind of service writing in powersports (easily my least favorite role - it grayed my hair early), I was genuinely excited to experience what I assumed would be a much higher standard at a luxury brand dealership.
The visit started promisingly. I called, pressed 1 for service, and spoke to a real person with no endless menus. She scheduled me a same-day drop-off at 9:30 a.m. and I noted we weren’t in a hurry to get the work completed. I arrived on time, got greeted in the service drive, and was directed to the guest lounge to wait for my service writer. I settled in to work… and waited. Thirty minutes passed without a word. No check-in, no apology. That was my first hint that the “luxury” experience might not live up to the hype.
Eventually, my service writer appeared and invited me to her office. We reviewed the car’s needs: oil and filter change, battery replacement, and anything else they found. I mentioned I suspected tires were due but wanted their professional recommendation. She offered a shuttle home (which I took), and after some pleasant chat, she’d been a service writer for about 30 years. Then I headed out.
Later that day, I received a text with a detailed video walk-around from the tech: oil/filter, battery, engine air filter, four new tires, and alignment. I approved everything, emphasizing no rush since I work from home and have flexibility. The next day, she texted that it was ready whenever convenient.
I arrived at the proposed time, waited only about five minutes, reviewed the repair order (no surprises), paid the ~$2,000 bill, and got the keys. She thanked me warmly and said the car was washed and waiting outside.
But as I approached, something looked off. The exterior was clean, but the wheels and tire sidewalls were smeared with what I immediately recognized as bead grease (the lubricant used during tire mounting to help the bead seat properly). It was visible on all four wheels - greasy streaks that hadn’t been cleaned off.
Keys in hand, ready to drive away, I turned around and walked back inside. My service writer asked if everything was okay. I pointed out the dirty wheels. Her response? “Yeah, that’s from the tire installation. Our car wash doesn’t remove it.”
I nearly laughed. Instead, I politely said one of us needed to clean it, and I’d prefer it wasn’t the guy who just paid the bill. She quickly shifted gears, offered to take it to their detailer, and disappeared with the car for about 15 minutes. When she returned, the wheels looked great. She apologized sincerely and thanked me again for my business.
Still, the experience left me disappointed. I’d rate it a C, overall.
Key misses:
Final thoughts
Lexus promises and charges for - a level of care rooted in omotenashi and meticulous craftsmanship. This visit fell short on both fronts, particularly at the finish line.
To any business owner or manager reading this: How are you truly verifying that the experience matches what your customers (and your brand) expect? A quick final walk-around, a proactive “Is everything perfect?” check, or simply owning small oversights can turn a C grade into an A.
In the end, I’ll probably go back. They did good work overall, but expectations are now tempered. Luxury isn’t just about the product; it’s about never fumbling the football on the one-yard line.
What do you think? Have you had similar experiences at luxury dealerships? Share some experiences that surprised you.
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