I think I’m twice the fool. I keep finding questionable and head-scratching items about my new-to-me 2016 Mercedes-AMG GT S that don’t sit well with me. I hate to admit it, but I was pennywise and pound foolish when I purchased this car from Vroom.com.
Yes, dear reader, that’s buyer’s remorse. The would’ve, should’ve, could’ves bubbling up from your’s truly. My regrets are by-and-large particular to my GT S, but I have some generalized misgivings about the model line too.

Here are the head-scratching particulars of my car:
The driver’s seat belt is incorrectly routed. (It must have been detached and reinstalled at some point.) The seat and armrest leather is cracking, and the dash leather is ungluing. The red brake calipers are fading to pink, damaged by either harsh chemicals or high heat. One wheel is missing the AMG logo that is found on the other three. The car was poorly repainted on three sides. (Did a dealership patch-up skin-deep scratches, or were deeper wounds repaired?)
What the hell happened to my car before my ownership?!! Given all the uncertainties, it would’ve been wise for me to return the vehicle within Vroom.com’s 7-day trial window.

Most of the shoddy bodywork appears recent; I suspect Vroom made slipshod repairs while preparing the car for sale. Paint runs, overspray (on the headlight!), and rough clear coat on the edges of the repaired panels are the rush-job zits on my GT S’s skin. Adding injury to insult, someone with a high-powered buffer polished the color off the front Mercedes emblem and snagged and bent the rear GT S badge. (Crusty compound from their sloppy polishing is still found in the hood vents and rubber seals.) The exterior is such a mess that I’m questioning the wisdom of protecting this low-dollar finish with a high-dollar clear bra!
When my buyer’s remorse is the greatest, my mind goes back to the gray AMG GT S that I shopped alongside the Vroom car. The asking price on the gray GT S was $76,500, plus $1,200 for shipping and $6k for an extended warranty. At the time, I didn’t think it was worth the extra $13k to get a garage queen GT S with low miles and with the Dynamic Plus track-pack. But given my current moaning over cosmetic defects and questionable repairs, I was wrong: I should’ve been poundwise and purchased the cleaner car!

Not that the gray GT S would’ve been perfect. I’ve found a few gripes that generalize to the whole model line.
It’s a matter of comfort; the unyielding seats and stiff suspension just aren’t! People with cranky backs—like me!—may want to move on.
I’ve yet to drive more than 20 minutes without wiggling and writhing in the tight sports seat, groaning at each suspension kick from the road. (Porsche’s seats are plusher and offer better lumbar support.) I could’ve predicted that ride comfort would be my main niggle with the AMG GT—I was worried about it in my test drives—but I chose to buy the GT S anyways because it was such rowdy fun. Mercedes sells softer AMG GT seats in Europe; could they be retrofitted into my car? I suspect not.

Even though all GT S’s have adjustable suspensions, the softest mode is still downright firm. I never want to use medium or hard modes! Since the soft mode is only paired to the Comfort drive setting, I do most of my street driving in Comfort. Yawn! It’s the dullest, most frugal configuration and the only one that trips the engine start/stop at every red light.
Sport, Sport+ and Race modes wake up the car, but I’m lazy about the extra button jabs I need to override their stiff shock settings and get back to soft! My get-out-of-jail card is Individual mode, which lets me mix an aggressive drivetrain with a relaxed suspension. This is a great alternative to driving in Comfort all the time, but I’d love multiple Individual modes so I can have different configurations for street and track. (And I want Individual to store ESP off.) BMW’s M1 and M2 buttons are a superior solution to individualized drive modes.

Another misstep: After exhaustive research, I purchased a Maxi-Cosi Rodifix booster seat, so my 5-year-old could ride with me in the GT S. At its base, the Rodifix is just 12″ side-to-side and fits on the GT S’s narrow seat bottom. (My other child seats are too wide.) But, to my chagrin, the Rodifix is foiled by the GT S’s deep lateral bolsters; it can’t rest against the seatback because the lateral bolsters pinch it forward. A RideSafer Travel Vest might be the only way to get my daughter into the GT S’s for a parent-child outing. (But my wife won’t hear of it.)
Yes, I have many regrets about my GT S, but the car isn’t a complete disappointment. Far from it! Its chassis is pointy and balanced, its bombastic engine is lagless, ready to kick out the rear end at a moment’s notice, and its loquacious steering tickles my fingertips. The GT S begs to be driven hard, and it delights when I oblige! I look forward to my first track days with the car.

I’ve had my GT S for a month, and so far, it doesn’t feel like a forever-car to me. It’s a bit too compromised for me to use regularly, and when it’s in full flight, I miss the involvement of a manual transmission. I think I’ll explore the GT S for a few years and then move on to the next best thing. It’s a fun—if flinty—fling, and I suspect it has a few more surprises for me in store.