It's an uphill battle I've fought for a long time. But just because I have boobs doesn't mean I don't know a thing about my car, it doesn't mean I don't expect good customer service either. Alas, people in Georgetown didn't get that memo today.
First, Baby Girl and I head to AutoZone. I'm all excited, it's her first trip to the parts store. This wouldn't be exciting to anyone else but me - after all, I worked in parts for about three years. I'm more at home wandering the aisles of a parts store, inadvertently fronting the store as I go, than I am most places. As a result, I'm also overly critical of people in the auto parts business. But, that's just how I roll.
We go into the store, and there are two people working. This guy named Jason, whose nametag says "Customer Satisfaction" but, well, obviously he didn't believe in truth in advertising. He's helping a guy, but he's so slow about it, the guy and I have had an interesting conversation. While we're standing there, I see the manager, standing there stocking parts. It's a chick, I'm so happy to see that. I say to Jocelyn, "Look Baby Girl, a parts chick. Mommy used to be one of those, and maybe you can be when you grow up. Well, not for a living, but maybe through college." The manager says something like, "Be right with you," but she's a big fat LIAR because she continues to throw stuff in boxes while Customer Non-Satisfaction Jason wanders down to ring the guy in front of me out.
Finally, Jason asks what I needed. "I need you to test my battery, please."
"Is it in the car?" Okay, seriously? I'm standing here with a two-year-old in hand, does it look like I took the battery out of the car and lugged it into the store? I mean, really? Are you that thick? (Rhetorical question.)
So, he gets the mobile battery tester and we go outside. Moron boy hooks it up and then he stares at the machine, trying to figure out why it's not working. I really wanted to shove him aside and say, "Let me do it, dammit." But, he finally tests it and the worthless ass machine says it's fine. (Trust me, I know it's not always accurate.)
We meander back into the store and we look up brake pads for the back. Are the good ones in stock? Hell no. But I guess mediocre brake pads are better than no brake pads at all, so I take what I can get. Then we meander down to the register so he can ring me out. "Would you like some fuel injector cleaner with that?"
"No thanks," I reply.
He picks up a bottle. "But it's on sale."
"No thanks."
Honestly, let's back this up. You ask me, I say no. Telling me that it's on sale is not going to change my mind. Especially because it's Gumout and that's nothing worth putting in my car. Second of all, if you're going for the upsell, why not attempt to sell something that remotely relates to what I bought. Perhaps the brake pad lube? Or brake fluid? (Okay, so brake fluid is a stretch when you're talking about rear brake pads, but still...) I wanted to do this kid's job for him.
We leave and go to Ralph's Tires ... I mean, Tire Discounters. It's where I got my tires, and I'm due for a tire rotation, so I can do it all at once. The manager is on the phone when I walk in, trying to sell some dude $871 worth of tires for his Yukon. He keeps telling him that unlike other places the mounting, balancing, and valve stems are free here. Yeah, that's true, but they jack the price of the tires up to accommodate for that. If you don't realize that, you deserve to be taken to the cleaners for tires. (Granted, I paid $700 for mine, but I knew what I was paying for. I wasn't sucked in by the "free this, free that," routine.) As I said to one of the guys waiting, "Tire Discounters my ass."
I get to deal with someone other than the manager, though, so I'm sort of grateful for that. I tell him I need my tires rotated, an oil change, and since they were going to have the tires off to rotate them, to go ahead and replace the back brake pads. Ninety dollars for the labor for the back brake pads ... REALLY? It takes no time at all to change brake pads ... and since the tires will be off anyway, it's even less. But I don't have the time to get away into the garage to do it myself, so I'll pay for the convenience, such as it is.
As I'm turning to get Jocelyn and my purse, the manager asks the guy what I'm having done. "Oil change and changing rear brakes."
Manager guy looks at me and asks, "What's wrong with them?"
I start to answer and he says, "Are they grinding or gripping?"
"No,"I reply.
"Then why do you want to change them?"
"Well, let's put it this way, the car is almost five years old and the rear brake pads have never been replaced. It's time," I reply to him.
"Oh, so it's just preventative maintenance."
"Yeah." I wanted so much to add "asshole" to that, but that's a bad example to set in front of my little girl.
Oh that made me so mad. Don't second-guess me jackhole. It's my car, and you're getting business, so if I tell you I'm going to pay you to rebuild the engine even though it's only got 60,000 miles on it, then by God, you're going to rebuild the freakin' engine because I said so. Just because I'm a chick does not mean I don't know enough about my car to know when maintenance needs to be done on it, and because I brought it in instead of doing it myself doesn't mean I'm any less intelligent about it, it just means I don't have the time.
What is it with these people today?
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