It was the sort of letter designed to get attention. "Final attempt to notify," it said on the outside.
Within, an official-looking "product warranty expiration notice" said that my Toyota's service contract "is expiring or has expired." It provided a number to call "to extend coverage."
This was troubling because when I purchased my "certified pre-owned" car from a dealer in 2011, I paid $1,700 for a seven-year, 100,000-mile extended warranty. Now it was expiring?
The answer, of course, was no. And the racket I'm about to run down is yet another reminder that you need to examine closely anything that even remotely looks like a financial warning. Chances are, it's a sales pitch for something you don't want and don't need.
Most homeowners have received things like this in the mail relating to their home. Maybe it's called mortgage protection. Maybe it's extended coverage for your gas line or chimney.
This was the first time I've seen one relating to a vehicle. And the format of the letter was particularly insidious, making it seem to be from my dealer and indicating that if I didn't act right away, I could be on the hook for any breakdowns.
My first call was to the Toyota dealer that sold me the car. Tony Laferrara, who works in the finance department, assured me that my extended warranty was still intact. I told him about the letter I'd received.
"That's the fourth or fifth one of these we've heard about," Laferrara said. "They're contacting people whose original factory warranty may be up."
He didn't know how the marketer was obtaining information about people's vehicles. Undoubtedly there's some database operator somewhere turning a buck by selling files to these jokers.
So I called the number in the letter and asked for someone in the head office. I was told no one in the head office was available to the public. Instead I was connected with Dave, who identified himself as a sales rep for American Automotive Service Solutions in O'Fallon, Ill.
"We work on a direct payment system with Toyota," he explained. I have no idea what that means.
Dave didn't know about the extended warranty I'd already purchased from the dealer. As far as he was concerned, the three-year factory warranty on my 2009 car had run its course, so I was now naked to the world, coverage-wise. Luckily, he had the solution.
If I qualified for his company's "elite product warranty," I could save myself a lot of heartache should anything go awry with my engine, transmission, steering system, cooling system, electrical system or other important systems.
And what do you know? After answering a few questions about the upkeep of my car, I learned that I did indeed qualify for the elite product warranty.
Dave's supervisor, Nathan, then came on the line to say that I'd better act fast. He said if I didn't agree to the coverage by the end of the call, my eligibility for the elite plan would disappear and I'd have to pay almost $800 more if I changed my mind later.
"We can't take the chance of you calling back only after you start having problems," Nathan said.
Then Dave returned and said I would receive a four-year, 80,000-mile warranty for just $3,625 — or about twice the cost of my more comprehensive Toyota warranty. He encouraged me to do what most customers did: Pay $395 upfront from my credit card and then make 12 monthly payments of $269.17 each.
I asked to see a copy of the contract. Dave said I would receive it by FedEx after we had come to terms. I dug in my heels and said that I couldn't agree to a new warranty without seeing the contract. So Dave reluctantly emailed me a copy.
I thanked him for his time and hung up.
The six-page contract revealed that the warranty centered on an oil additive called Protector 5/100. You have to put it in your engine once a year for the four years of coverage.