Chapter 46 Now I Think I Know How Job Felt – December 12 The past three weeks have tested me like Job was tested in the Bible. Well, maybe not to the extent in which Job Suffered but close. I haven’t lost everything. I still have my health (knock on wood) and most of my family is still intact. I haven’t been ravaged by disease and am not sitting in an ash heap. Maybe I am exaggerating a tad but in today’s standards I am ‘totally bummin’’. I use the descriptive ‘Job’ because in my longsuffering attempt to have my truck repaired I am to the point of ‘cursing god and dying’. It has been over 3 weeks since my poor truck limped into Kingman, AZ and sat at the Ford dealership there. It has been 2 and half weeks since the green light was given to replace the motor. It’s been a week and a half since I returned to Arizona thinking, no, believing with the depths of my soul, like I believe there is a higher power, that my truck would be in my loving arms again and I would be ‘heading down that highway’. But no, it is not. I finally called the warranty company again yesterday and was given the same answer I have contently accepted time and time again, “The motor is being shipped and should be there today”. Let me talk to your supervisor. Ben got on the phone and asked what I wanted (not “what may I help you with” or “how can I assist you”…What do you want!) I calmly took him on the curious journey I have been on in the past 3 weeks. I explained how the Kingman Ford dealership is ‘chompin’ on the bit’ to get working on my car. I told him I have patiently waited for the motor to arrive. I expressed concern that no one can tell me where that motor is, that a simple tracking number should tell us all that. In a tad more firm voice I let ol’ Ben know that I am way behind schedule on this trip and have missed several target dates of places I planned to be. I shared that in a week I am supposed to be at a wedding in Houston, TX and may not make that now. I casually mentioned that I have expended well over a grand taking buses, taxis and shuttles waiting for this event to conclude. I hoped he could put himself in my shoes and see my frustration. What, pray tell was his professional response? “Whatcha want me to do?” GET ON THE PHONE AND FIND THAT MOTOR AND EXPRESS IT TO KINGMAN SO I CAN GET MY DAMN CAR!! At the very least, how about an expression of regret that this is happening? How about an apology? “That time has come and passed….” WHAT! Listen here you little…. I had it, I did what raised my dander when I worked customer service, I hung up! I held back any vulgarity while on the phone with him, but when that connection dropped, I let loose a fury that would have made Blackbeard the Pirate cower in a corner, trembling with fear. Luckily, I was alone in my hosts’ house and their dogs wouldn’t be able to tell on me. Since then the warranty company has passed blame back to me, to the Kingman Ford dealership, to Adam and Eve but won’t accept any responsibility. I told good old Ben before I had to disconnect the call that when a pressing issue is at hand, the phone rep who took the call should be routinely contacting the vendor, the shipper and the dealership to see where that motor is being held ransom. I told Ben that as a manager he had failed miserably and probably needs to pick up a class or two on customer relations. (big exhale, cleansing breath, hold it and…release…) So here I sit, in Sun City, AZ. The weather is great. There are fresh grapefruit and tangelos on the tree. I should be ‘kickin’ back and lovin’ life’, right? Where is my bottle of aspirin?
Posted on: Fri, 12 Dec 2014 17:05:52 +0000
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