1) I brought my '93 Tercel into Toyota of Hollywood for some small thing that I could not do in my driveway. When I signed the work order, I wrote, "Nothing else is wrong with the car. Do not touch anything else." When I came back to pick it up, I was met with, "We completed the job that you requested, sir, and we also completed our entirely free 4,000 Point Inspection, and we found a torn CV boot." Really? Show me. The car was on a lift, and the Service Writer pointed to a cut in the CV boot about three inches long, the kind of cut you might make with a boxcutter. The tech was standing on the side, wiping his hands on a dirty rag, and looking at me to see what kind of sap I was going to turn out to be.
2) I took the same car to a mechanic in North Hollywood for a tune-up. Among other things, I specifically said, "Flush the brake-clutch system and replace the fluid." When I returned and saw that this had not been done, he said, "Oh, it didn't need it." It was my only car. Servicing it cost me a day without a car, and this clown could not be bothered to do what I paid him to do.
On the positive side, I once took my Porsche to Callas Rennsport for some routine brake maintenance. This was when Tony Callas was just starting the business. I got down to Torrance early to pick up the car and drink coffee and hang around, and I found Tony cleaning my disassembled brake calipers with a brass toothbrush. I couldn't believe how meticulous and thorough he was. It was on that day that I decided that I wanted to marry a Porsche mechanic, but that never worked, and, if you don't count three specific women, I never married anybody.