We bought a great new car a few months ago for the trip. We love it. A Saturn Outlook, identical to the Buick Enclave and GMC Acadia. After a few weeks I noticed a minor pull to the right, and when I took it in they agreed, and said they fixed it. We left for Nova Scotia shortly thereafter, and they hadn't fixed the problem at all.
So I came back to Rochester a day early to give them time to try again before we headed west. Last Friday they kept the car the entire day, and said they fixed it this time. Well, of course, they didn't. They said to bring it in early Monday morning, the day we were leaving to go west, and they promised it would be ready by 11am. I got up early and brought it in at 7:30am. They said they would deal with it immediately.
We called at 10am after not hearing from them. We got a recording in the service dept., which we got again at 10:30 and 10:45. At 11 we started over to pick up the car, and Trisha told the operator not to connect us, since we got a recording. The operator said that was outrageous, and she would personally walk over to the service dept. and get them on the line. Well, we got there 9 minutes later and were still on hold. It was now 11:15.
The car wasn't there. It was being test driven to make sure they fixed it. The service guy came back with the car a few minutes later and said it was fixed. Trisha asked him when he started working on the car and he said 10:30, and that he was told it had to be ready by noon, not 11.The service manager suggested I drive it with him, and I did. It pulled to the right the exact same way 7 of the 8 times we were on a straightaway. I was still a model of politeness and restraint.
When we got back to the dealer, the service manager got out of the car and said to Trisha, "well, it pulled to the right about half the time". I lost it, screaming that he was a liar,and that it pulled almost every time, and why would he try to minimize the problem he was acknowledging still existed.
Trisha at this point forced me to the car while she dealt with the matter. As soon as she got the email address of the owner, the service manager acknowledged they hadn't fixed the problem; that they were having serious problems with their service dept.; and that they would get it right the next time. Well, we were leaving at that moment for a doctor appointment and then we were on the road, so the next time would be October.
The owner responded to an email Trisha sent later in the day, and for the first time, someone apologized. She acknowledged their service dept was in turmoil, with many terminations and new hires, but said we were correct in that the car hadn't been fixed, which was totally unacceptable.
So you decide. Did my yelling(albeit quite loudly, and in front of several people waiting for their cars), cross the line so badly that Trisha correctly characterized my walk to the car as the "walk of shame", or is showing a little emotion in this situation justified?
It must be genetic. My father took me for my first suit when I was to be bar mitzvahed. After alterations, I got it home and it didn't fit. I was borderline "husky" at that age, and it was simply too tight around the waist. My father took me back to the store(THE place to buy young men's clothes in the Bronx in 1960), and quite politely told them the suit didn't fit. Well, they made a fatal error, trying to tell my father the suit in fact did fit. My father lost it(unfortunately, with me standing in the store with the too tight pans on, being examined by multiple people, all pulling on the waist band while I died of embarrassment). But when my father got upset there was no calming him down. The police were called, and when two patrol cars rolled up, and the store was closed for the rest of the evening, I thought my father was going to be arrested. Thankfully he knew the officers, since he had a sporting goods store in the neighborhood, and perhaps more importantly, they saw the pants didn't fit!
I honestly don't remember exactly how it got resolved, but I do know the pants I wore a few weeks later for my bar mitzvah fit nicely( and I did a hell of a job on the beema of our orthodox temple when the chips were down, given that I hated every single agonizing minute of 5 years of hebrew school, which I went to 5 days a week).
I lose my temper once a year. (Well, twice this year-Maybe I'll relate the Black & Blue restaurant incident some other time)My father lost his much more often. He was always right, and always tried to resolve things calmly at first, but when he lost it he was total nut case. That's not me, no matter what anyone might hear from Trisha, Camaron, Josh or Matt. They are exaggerating, I assure you.
That's it for now. Going to dinner in "historic downtown"St. Charles MO, near St. Louis. There's also a "french" district. Didn't know that.
Tomorrow we're in Independence,MO, and then two nights in Kansas City. They have a combined Jazz and Negro baseball player hall of fame, and we won't miss the Hallmark Museum. We had many tears over the years watching the Hallmark movies on Sunday nights with and without the kids. And we can't pass up the opportunity to see some of those greeting card commercials that were sappy and manipulative; and absolutely marvelous.
Be well everyone. Russ
1 comment:
Yeah, and I only lose my temper once or twice a year too. HA!!
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