How Was Tesla Service When Our Model Y Needed a Window Replaced?
Getting our Tesla’s windshield replaced went mostly great, although we still had some minor complaints.
There’s not much you can do when a rock is flying toward your windshield at highway speeds. That’s a reality we encountered in our long-term Tesla Model Y, when the lower center of its windshield was impacted by a wayward chunk of stone. The strike resulted in a vaguely question-mark-shaped crack; there were no symptoms worse than its unsightliness, but nevertheless it needed to be fixed. That crack’s shape correlated with something we’d need an answer to: Is the Tesla service experience good or bad, given the lack of dealerships?
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Like with so many things on the Model Y, scheduling service was completed through Tesla’s mobile app. Starting in a dedicated Service menu, specifying the type of damage was easy. There's a submenu for glass, which leads to a diagram showing all the crossover’s glazing. After choosing the windshield, I could attach photos showing the damage. Next, the app used my location to find the nearest Tesla service center—less than 2 miles away from home in Santa Monica.
Before scheduling, I added a service item for replacement of the back-seat coat hook that’d somehow snapped in half. Next, I found a suitable date and time and booked the service. How much would it cost? The app advised I check back once an estimate had been processed. A short while later, a notification alerted me of an estimate totaling $428.40, all of which was attributed to the windshield; the coat hook would be replaced at no charge under warranty.
Pulling into the service center two minutes before my 11 a.m. appointment, I found a scene where the concentration of Teslas was only slightly higher than what I typically observe around Los Angeles’ streets. That is to say, every vehicle was a Tesla—matte-wrapped Cybertrucks, banged-up Model S Plaids, you name it, it was there. I watched enviously as a driver in a factory-fresh Model 3 Performance painted in slick Quicksilver pearlescent paint departed.
Upon arrival, I was immediately greeted by David, a friendly service advisor. David used the Model Y’s VIN to check me in on his laptop before pointing me to a nearby parking spot, where we convened to review the service order. Everything looked good—except, oops, the initial estimate was a little off. Whoever had built it had neglected to add the windshield component to the estimate, so the initial cost only represented labor. That piece of glass cost exactly $1,000, sending the actual estimate skyrocketing like a meme stock to $1,576.80
David was apologetic, but hey, no sweat, he was just the bearer of bad news. I’d already started an insurance claim in case something like this happened. Once I’d approved the updated work order on my Tesla app, David noted that the shop wasn’t terribly busy that day and guessed I’d be out of there by 2 p.m., but the work could go as late as 5 p.m. if something unexpected came up.
Tesla’s service team must have a secret digital master key, because I didn’t need to hand over the Model Y’s physical key card or authorize any new drivers from my app. David led me to the waiting room, where I’d spend the next few hours working on car stories as the substance for this car story went on behind closed doors. The lounge was typical of most car dealers: spacious, filled with comfortable chairs, Wi-Fi equipped, stocked with basic beverages, and adorned with the automaker’s imagery on the walls. A musty aroma masked by the smell of perfuming chemicals was the only thing that increased my eagerness to get out of there.
Fortunately, I didn’t have to wait long. David occasionally stopped by to give me updates, and exactly two hours after I’d arrived, he approached to let me know the job was done as a notification repeating the message simultaneously popped up on my iPhone. Indicating the depth of Tesla’s process integration, I also paid through the Tesla app using the credit card I already had on file.
Walking outside with David, my Model Y was parked right there with an unquestionably crack-free brand-new windshield. As the adhesive was still curing, I was told to not remove the pieces of tape at its upper corners for 24 hours and avoid carwashes for three days. I gave my thanks to David and drove home, with a final invoice waiting in my app by the time I arrived.
Aside from that odor permeating the waiting room, there’s only one, maybe two things I wish had gone differently. First, I arrived knowing my windshield washer fluid was low, as a little test for Tesla’s technicians to see how closely they checked the details. They didn’t, which slightly disappointing considering an alert saying it needs to be refilled was at the top of the Model Y’s notifications menu. They did, however, check the tire pressure.
Second, as I walked toward the car the following day, there was some minor paint scuffing on its driver’s side A-pillar I’d never noticed before. I can’t say conclusively that it occurred when the old windshield was removed and the new one put into place, but I’m suspicious.
Nevertheless, getting the Model Y back in shape was about as easy and efficient as I could ask for from a manufacturer’s service process.
For More on Our Long-Term 2023 Tesla Model Y Long Range:
- We Bought a 2023 Tesla Model Y Long Range for a Yearlong Test
- The Supercharger Difference
- How Far Can You Tow With a Tesla?
- What Changed After the Tesla Autosteer Recall? Not Much.
- Are the Tesla Model Y’s Third-Row Seats Worth It?
- What Happens When the Model Y’s Cameras Can’t See?
- Secrets and Surprises of the Tesla Model Y
Alex's earliest memory is of a teal 1993 Ford Aspire, the car that sparked his automotive obsession. He's never driven that tiny hatchback—at six feet, 10 inches tall, he likely wouldn't fit—but has assessed hundreds of other vehicles, sharing his insights on MotorTrend as a writer and video host.
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