January 2, 2013

One Percent

2013 started off with a ba-bayum.

Since I will probably be late to my own funeral, it's only natural that I would be behind getting my car inspected & tags renewed, right? I woke up on this cloudy New Year's Day with a "I'm getting this ish done" attitude- setup an appointment with the local mechanic shop & called my dad to meet me there.

This particular local mechanic shop was recently bought out by another, larger, company & I noticed upon entering the establishment, many of the long-time employees were nowhere to be found. I don't frequent this spot, necessarily- but it's near our home & it's where I get my truck inspected every year.

I asked to have my oil changed, tires rotated & a normal inspection.

"The truck is under Spencer?" the man behind the counter asked me, puzzled because I'd told him my last name was Braunstein.
"Yes, my dad has brought it here before...Don Spencer," I said.
"Oh, I know you're dad!" he told me.

I felt better...even though I didn't know him- or anyone there for that matter. In our small town, it means something to know who is working on your truck, making you coffee or serving your dinner. Is it all who you know? Sometimes. Sometimes it just helps to see a friendly face...or be the friendly face.

I jumped in my dad's truck and ran some errands. Over an hour had passed and I thought I'd call to check on my truck- so I wouldn't have to come back out.

"Oh, yea...I was about to call you. Your truck failed the inspection- but everything else is complete," the man behind the counter told me over the phone.
"What?! Why?"
"The tint is 1% darker than the legal limit, ma'am," he told me.
"But you've inspected it every year & it's passed...what changed?!"
"I guess you got new tint!" he said.
"Um, no...it's the same as last year...and the year before..."

Now, I know they have rules they have to follow- and they have to draw the line somewhere...but seriously? 1%!? My blood pressure instantly skyrocketed as my dad and I drove back to Trea---- the local shop.

We walked in & sat down. The man behind the counter pretended he didn't know my dad was my dad, even though he told me he knew him. Then he proceeded to tell us that he couldn't just pass the truck because he knew who we were.

"It's not all who you know!" he said.

Yea, I bet your mattress still has that tag on it that says 'do not remove' too, Sparky.

"The guy behind our shop can take the tint off...we'll inspect it & then he can replace it for you- simple as that," he explained.

I got mad. I saw red. I was a second away from taking off my earrings. 1 freaking percent. ONE. And you've inspected it every.freaking.year.

"What a racket..."

I told him I was done arguing, I just wanted to pay my bill and be done. While I went over my bill, I explained to the man behind the counter that good customer service- means letting your client know when something comes up with their vehicle. I felt that I should've been notified prior to my oil change & tire rotation...but that's just good customer service- which clearly this shop does not have.

After telling the man behind the counter this- he got his back up...which royally pissed me off.

"You can take your truck somewhere else. But you're flagged in the system...the DMV will come to your house," he said, with a fake tough-guy attitude.
"Oh! Scary! Bring it on- they can inspect my truck, my house, look through my dirty laundry & meet my 3 dobermans and angry chihuahua...but they won't. Because you're bluffing. Liar," I said...and I may have stuck my tongue out after I said liar and made the farting noise...possibly.

My dad interjected with obscenities that are not blog friendly...if we were onstage and I was a rapper, he would've totally rocked it as a hype man.

The two mechanics standing behind him half cheered me on and half wouldn't make eye contact with me b/c they didn't want to anger the crazywhitegirl anymore than their bossman had already.

I stomped out. Slamming the door and huffed all the way to my 1%-too-tinted truck and realized...I forgot my damn coffee mug- my favorite zebra print coffee mug. I stomped back in like an angry stallion with its ears pinned. I glared at the man behind the counter as I snatched my coffee mug off the counter. (I might have said "HMPH!"...possibly.)

I complained about said 'local shop' all day. (ONE PERCENT TOO DARK! ONE FREAKING PERCENT!!)

Today, I went to a real mechanic. My inspection passed with flying colors. Turns out- it isn't who you know, its just knowing when you know assholes. ;-)

1 comment:

  1. "I may have stuck my tongue out after I said liar and made the farting noise...possibly." laughed so hard I snorted. Farting noise- gets me every.time.