A lot of the time the laughter in our house comes about as a result of watching the antics of the dogs, but every once in a while we have to laugh at ourselves! It all started when Jana decided to re-model the front end of her vehicle by, as she puts it, “introducing it to the bull bar” attached to the rear of one of her students vehicles. End result - a small smear of white paint on the bull bar, and the front end of Jana’s vehicle crumpled like a used tissue. This was not an entirely unexpected result, as while the two vehicles are of the same general type, what South African’s call a “bakkie” (a light delivery vehicle or truck in American parlance, a pick-up truck or “a small truck with an open body and low sides” according to an English dictionary definition), Jana’s little vehicle is about the smallest commercially available version of this type of vehicle, and the students about the biggest commercially available in South Africa. To make this little bump all that more inconvenient, it happened some 400 km from home as Jana was taking a group of her students on a field trip to a neighbouring country, the lovely Kingdom of Lesotho, situated high in the Drakensberg mountains like an African Tibet. Fortunately for all concerned, the damage, while ugly to look at, was not of such a nature that it affected any of the mechanical components of the vehicle, so the field trip continued with Jana’s vehicle held together by cable ties. Back on the home front, I reported the incident to the insurance company and got the whole “getting it fixed” ball on the roll. Contrary to our expectations, the insurance company moved with exceptional speed and professionalism, and the whole preliminary claim was handled in an hour or so by a few phone calls. We were even told how to contact the correct person when Jana returned, what the claim excess payment would be, and every detail was then messaged to our phones to confirm that we were fully up to date on what was happening! So Jana had her adventure in the mountain kingdom in her little bent nosed bakkie, and on returning, arraigned to take her vehicle in to be assessed. This is where the trouble began. We were told by the insurance company that we could have the bakkie fixed at one of two places – one near us, and one in the next town. Now although the next town is not that far away, about a twenty minute drive, it is inconvenient, so we opted for the local body shop, or “vehicle repair centre” as they termed themselves. Jana phoned to make an appointment to take her bakkie to be assessed at a place near her work, then took the vehicle in to the body shop, and then left with it again! The body shop had asked her if she wished to leave the vehicle there, or take it with her since it was still drivable, and use it while they obtained the spare parts. Of course Jana opted to take the vehicle with her, she was only expecting the wait for the spare parts to be a day or so, and in that time at least she would be able to use her own vehicle. At this point I should explain why my wife drives a light delivery vehicle instead of a car (she actually traded her car in for the bakkie). Our dogs! There was not enough room on the back seat of her car for our two big dogs, far less for three or four, and the space in the back of my Range Rover is also not that great unless the back seats are folded flat. Add to that the fact that the Range Rover is an expensive vehicle to dive around all the time, and we needed a dog carrier. A good friend of ours was moving to Australia, and selling his little white diesel bakkie, so Jana asked him if she could buy it after she had sold her car. It all worked out, and Jana ended up with a very fuel efficient baby bakkie. It is so small that I almost don’t fit into the passenger seat, and every time second gear is engaged, my thigh is engaged as well! However, it has a load bed big enough to accommodate all four of our dogs at a single time, and a permanently attached canopy that turns it into a van. Jana had an opening window fitted in the rear cabin window of the bakkie, so that we can communicate with the dogs while we are driving, and so that Wallace can still drool all over us from the back of the vehicle. The number of times I have arrived at the end of a trip on a warm day with a soaked shoulder and arm are legend! Anyway, back to the saga of the bent nosed bakkie. Jana phoned me to tell me that she had seen the assessors, and about keeping the vehicle until the body shop had the parts. She was still on the phone when she received another call. It was to tell her that the body shop would not pre-order the parts unless she paid the claim excess amount to them, up front! I was not at all pleased about this, as it is, at very least, irregular, but Jana decided that she would benefit from being able to use the vehicle for the day or so that it would take to get the parts, and so paid the excess into their account. The day or so become two days or so, and then a week or so, and then ten days or so, and then two weeks or so. Not a cheep from the body shop about when Jana could bring her bakkie in for repair. I was getting a bit irritated, as the uncertainty about when the repair would occur was a major stumbling block in any short term future planning attempt. There was also the added complication of how Jana would get to work during the time the bakkie was in for repair. Jana travels 150 km (just under 100 miles) a day to work and back. In the bakkie, that is affordable, as it uses very little fuel indeed. More than a couple of days in the Range Rover would not be affordable, as it uses almost four times as much fuel as the bakkie! On top of that, I use the Range Rover to take Stirling to physiotherapy and swimming therapy, so it makes it even more difficult. So in order to get to work during the time that the bakkie was in for repair, Jana would have to borrow her sister’s car for a few days in the week where her sister was not driving for her lift club, but in the week where her sister was driving for the lift club, Jana would have to take time of work each day and get a lift with the club. This would not only be inconvenient for all concerned, but would not always be possible as Jana had students preparing for exams and so forth at that time of the year, and had to be around for them to consult with her. So the uncertainty about when the bakkie was going to have to go in for repairs was a major issue, and a growing source of irritation. The final straw was when the insurance company sent me a message on my phone enquiring if I was completely satisfied with the quality of the repair work done by the body shop on the bakkie! I replied that I was not, as the work had not as yet even started, and that in fact we had not as yet even heard from the body shop as to when we could take the bakkie in for repair. The skies must have fallen on the body shop, as I had a phone call from them within minutes, with an elderly lady gabbling away on the other end of the phone. I slowed her down enough to hear that she was sorry, the parts had only just arrived, they were very busy and so forth. In the first place, I do not believe that the parts had only just arrived, unless they had only just ordered them. The plastic bumper, plastic radiator grill, the horn (hooter), the right side headlight and the bonnet cover are all parts that one can order straight away from the local spare parts emporium, and that they claim they can have for you in a day. I know, I asked! If you want the parts even more rapidly than that, you can order them directly from the warehouse and go and fetch them the same day! The warehouse is in Johannesburg, 75 km’s away. So I was not impressed! When the woman on the other end of the phone finally ran out of steam, and the gabbling trailed of, I informed her that I was not actually the person to talk to, that she would have to get hold of Jana, and explain everything to her! She rang of and it was not long before Jana phoned me with a tail about a gibbering nervous wreck and car parts and the like. It turns out that the lady had been so nervous about speaking to us because she had been tasked with telling us that although we had already waited two weeks, the body shop was too busy to take Jana’s bakkie in at that point, and that we would have to wait another week until we could take it in. Had it been my vehicle, I would probably have said a few choice things and set the insurance company onto the body shop, but Jana is a kinder, more understanding person most of the time, and acceded to their request for a bit more patience. The following Monday came around, Jana borrowed her sisters car, and I arraigned to meet Jana’s dad at the body shop to drop the bakkie of for repair. Jana told me she expected that the repair would take no more than a day or so, as it was simply a matter of replacing a light, a plastic bumper, a plastic grill and a simple engine compartment cover. The engine compartment cover (bonnet) would have to be painted, and they had also said they expected to have to set the wheel alignment. I cautioned her that this might take a bit longer, expect two or three days rather than one. So when I arrived at the body shop on a cold Monday morning at 7:30 am, I was expecting to drop the vehicle of, and be told to collect in sometime in the next few days. The entire experience started badly, with me being ignored and made to wait until the lady behind the counter decided that I could have her attention. I don’t mind a lot of things, but rudeness is one that I have difficulty with, and I considered her behaviour to be rude! So we were not of to the best of starts before we even got going. The fact that she could not find the paperwork, and kept on saying “wait” when I tried to give her more information did not help. By the time that she had finally tracked down the paperwork, I was building up a fair old head of steam. She then told Jana’s dad and I that we would have to wait for someone to come along and book the vehicle in. I asked if that had not already been dealt with, and was told that someone would have to inspect the vehicle AGAIN! After another wait, a mostly blond younger woman in too tight jeans and a too tight sweater top came out and asked us to show her the vehicle. She then proceeded to examine and photograph every inch of the vehicle, asking a multitude of seemingly irrelevant questions, and all the time complaining that the vehicle was not cleanly washed. I gather from this that one is not permitted to have an accident unless ones car is in a pristine, spotlessly clean condition! Muddy cars will not be repaired! Dust is not permitted in a collision! By this time the woman had actually moved around to the front of the vehicle where the damage was, my temper was wearing a bit thin, and I was also late for the office. The woman finally finished with her inspection, presented me with a form to sign, and turned away, saying as she did that we could expect the bakkie to be repaired in three weeks. Not within three weeks, mark you, not in a time that might at maximum be three weeks, she clearly and distinctly said it was going to take three weeks to repair the vehicle! I must admit that I might have sounded a little incredulous and a bit narked when I called her back and asked her if I had heard correctly, and that she had just said that it was going to take three weeks to repair the bakkie? I then explained to her that the parts had been pre-ordered, and that I know that they were already there, as I had been told that the parts were already there last week. With this in mind, could she please give me a more accurate assessment of the amount of time needed to repair the vehicle? “Three weeks” was the reply! I told her that we had already been waiting more than three weeks, and that another three weeks was an unacceptable amount of time for this job, that my wife was going to be very upset about this, that I was very upset about this, and that she needed to re-think and come up with a more realistic time frame. Again I was told that it was going to take three weeks. By this time I was quite upset. Now Jana tells me that when I get upset I become, as she puts it, loud. She also says I can be, to coin a phrase, quite forceful. I object to this characterization, I feel that it is more a case of emphasis and animation! However, the woman at the body shop might well have agreed with Jana’s description, as she showed an unreasonable eagerness to call her supervisor when I asked her to. She scuttled of like a crab fleeing into the surf. And then we waited! By the time the scrawny little squirt of a supervisor showed up, I was definitely more than a little annoyed. His strategy was obviously based on the principle that the best defence is a good offence, and he launched straight into me about why it was going to take three weeks because they were so busy, and they were so busy because they were so good, and did I not understand that my wife’s car was not the most important thing they had to do, and that three weeks was not an unreasonable amount of time, and that I did not know what I was talking about, and how long did I think that it should take to finish the job? Now if ever there was an approach designed to win friends and influence people, this was not it! It was also strategically a very stupid way to try and deal with a customer who was obviously already annoyed, and was not likely to be intimidated. When I told him that although I though three weeks was in fact an excessive amount of time for the work that had to be done, it was a irrelevant as we had already been waiting three weeks, and that since they already had the parts, and had had them for a week in fact, I thought that three days was a more reasonable time period, and that all they had proved to be good at as yet was messing my wife around and that the only reason I was not taking the bakkie away right now was that they had already got Jana’s money. I also suggested that the amount of time they had taken to get the spare parts in the first place was so egregiously long that I could have walked all the way to Johannesburg to collect the parts and still have been back in less time, and that how busy they were was not my problem. The supervisor scurried of in the same crab like manner his lady employee had used, muttering something about not needing my sarcasm and getting the boss! This time the wait was not long, and the boss man was not a pint sized shrimp with a bad attitude, but a bull of a man with a very bad attitude. He was obviously used to being able to bully and shout people down, and intimidate with his bad temper and his sheer physical size. Doesn’t work with me. After he had bellowed that I was being unreasonable, and that if they finished the work in less than three weeks, it would be a nice surprise, and why did I think it should take any less time in the first place? I told him they had already had three weeks, that I was being totally reasonable, that six weeks to bolt on four bits, and spray a flat bonnet was unreasonable and plain laughable, and that I had restored vintage and classic cars myself, and I knew exactly how long something like this should take, and that I did not want a surprise, I wanted the work done timeously and properly and without the attitude, and that I was now going to complain to the insurance company. This slowed things down a bit, and he asked me rather sarcastically if I wanted him to put everything else he had going on aside and push my wife’s car to the front of the row. I told him it would be a start, and left before the whole thing spiralled completely out of control. I did complain to the insurance company, or rather Jana did, after checking with her dad that I had not in fact started the whole thing, which I would never do, but she felt she had to check. It took them just over a week to fix the car, which I think was still too long. The owner then phoned me and tried to rekindle the argument about how long it had taken. I told him to speak to Jana. Silly clot! It then turns out that the owner is the father in law of one of Jana’s friends, and is well known for his temper and bad manners. Jana phoned her to make sure I had not been rude to her husband, who also works in the business, and they had a good laugh about the whole thing. So Jana now had her shiny bakkie back, polished and clean and looking quite good. She was so happy, and ready to enjoy her trip to work in the bakkie, that she set of earlier than usual on the following day. Because of this, I was concerned when she did not phone at 7 am to let me know that she is safe at work. We have a little ritual where by Jana will phone me at 7am when she has reached work on or before that time, to let me know that she is safely at work, and for us to exchange any bits of information that needs to be exchanged. If Jana has not called and it is significantly later than 7 am, I phone her to make sure all is well. So on this morning, when Jana had not phoned by 7:15 am, I was worried so I phoned Jana’s cellular phone. Jana answered immediately with an “oh, so you are awake now are you?” It turned out she was sitting in our TV room with the dogs. About a mile from our house on her way to work the clutch cable on the bakkie had broken, and she had come home again. Now this is not the first time the clutch cable on this bakkie has broken. We can’t figure out why, but it seems to happen every six months or so. It has stranded her twice before, so she now carries a spare clutch cable in the vehicle as we cannot work out why the cable keeps breaking. But that is another story. I dressed, had coffee, and went to have a look a Jana’s now immobile bakkie. The cable had once again sheared of in exactly the same place, right at the end where it attaches to the top of the clutch pedal arm. Jana stood there with the new cable and an expectant look on her face. She enquired if I would be able to fix it. I said I would. However, after ten or so minutes of struggling with the dammed thing, I realised that I was probably going to need help. Jana had also obviously come to that same conclusion independently of me, and asked me if I wanted her to phone her dad to come and help. I agreed that that might help, and she phoned him while I further bruised my hands and arms trying to get the old cable out. There is one thing for certain; those vehicles were never designed to be worked on by someone of my size. I am not sure they were even designed to have someone of my size in them either. Anyway, by the time Jana’s dad arrived, I had pretty much figured out that, in order to get the job done, we were going to have to loosen or remove several bits and pieces so that we could get our hands in behind the engine. With a struggle, we removed the old cable, and with even more of a struggle, we got the new cable in, through the firewall, and ready to be clipped onto the clutch pedal arm. And that is where we got stuck, and in a lot more ways than one! Jana’s dad was the first to try clipping the end of the cable into the top of the clutch pedal arm. He tried this lying on his back on the floor of the car, jammed between the seat on the one side, and the pedals on the other, facing upward with his neck at a horrible angle, the ridge of the door frame cutting into the small of his back, and his feet and legs supporting the weight of his body and stopping it from sliding out of the car. The reason that I know this is that, when after multiple attempts, bit of wire twisted into tools, and half an hour of struggling did not result in the cable being clipped into the clutch pedal arm, I gave it a try in exactly the same position. Now while Jana’s dad is not a hugely tall or big man, the same unfortunately cannot be said for me. What was a tight fit for him was an intolerable squeeze for me. Once I had my head and shoulders in the foot well of the driver’s side of the vehicle, I was quite literally jammed in place, almost incapable of moving. But I persevered, for at least fifteen minutes, until the pain in my back was so bad that I had to take a break. Jana’s dad started to fashion yet another wire instrument to assist in our quest, and for the umpteenth time Jana asked if she could have a go. She now claims that I was not kind to her, and told her that she was getting in the way. I do not recall any such thing! Anyway, she does not try to lie in the foot well, but lies down with her back on the passenger seat, her shoulders over the hand brake lever, and her head hanging upside down in space in front of the driver’s seat. It took her two attempts and about the same number of minutes to get the cable clipped onto the clutch pedal arm! Sorting out the rest took no time at all, although Jana was by that time so late for work that she phoned her boss and took a day’s leave. So there she was, with her shiny fixed car and her shiny bragging rights about the clutch cable. She was so chuffed with herself she practically crowed about it, particularly the alleged bit where I told her she was getting in the way, just before she fixed the clutch! I am never going to live this one down!
Posted on: Thu, 13 Jun 2013 08:00:40 +0000
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