Unfiltered Story #159885

, , , | Unfiltered | August 4, 2019

(I am involved in a minor fender-bender that results in the driver’s side of the hood being dented in and the side mirror knocked off. My parents have my boyfriend and I take the car to the repair shop for an estimate, and are given a $3000 and three-day repair job, which my boyfriend (who is in school for automotive repair) had originally estimated at $300. Shocked at the price and still being on my family’s car insurance, I ask for a copy of the paperwork to show to parents so we can discuss our options. We decided that we don’t have much of a choice, so my mother calls the shop to schedule the repairs.)

Mother: Hi, my name is ________, and my daughter and her boyfriend were in yesterday to get an estimate on a repair job?
Technician (laughing like he knows something she doesn’t): Oh, yeah, I remember those two.
Mother: I’m sorry, what do you mean?
Technician (in a falsetto voice): Ohh, I have to go talk to my Daddy about these prices! (laughs)
Mother: I’m sorry, I don’t get what’s so funny here!
Technician: (silence)
Mother: She did the right the thing, she’s still on our insurance, and she was very scared, and right now, we are just very happy that no one was injured in this accident! You shouldn’t be laughing and making jokes about this!
Technician: …So anyways, if you want to bring in the car tommorow, we can start working on it.

(Both my parents were furious with this guy, who seemed to always make sure he was never in the waiting room or answering the phone whenever my parents stopped in. We continued to have more problems with this shop (such as them not calling us or the car rental company when they kept the car three days past the esitmated repair time) and have had issues with this same man mocking my mother and I the last time we took a car in after an accident. We definetly will not be going there again.)

Truck Drivers Are Happy To Have You On The Team(ster)

, , , , , | Working | July 14, 2019

(I am a twenty-something blonde woman. I take my car to a small chain brake repair shop to get my rear brakes done. I cross the road and kill a few hours at the mall before I wander back, only to find my car still up on the lift.)

Worker: “Oh, there you are. Yeah. Your whole brake system is shot. We have to replace everything.”

Me: “What? No, you don’t. Just replace the rear brake pads!”

Worker: “Nope. Can’t do that. It’s not road safe. We have to do the work here and now as we can’t let that car on the road in this condition.”

Me: “How much?”

Worker: “$2,500.”

(I lose it, yelling and demanding and threatening, but he stands there unmoved. I then pull out my phone, and he asks dismissively:)

Worker: “You calling the cops?”

Me: “No. I’m calling a Teamster.”

(It isn’t a threat; I just want some advice from a good friend who is a driver, but the man’s face changes instantly.)

Worker: “Wait. What?”

(I don’t understand the fear in his eyes, but I go with it.)

Me: “Yeah. Looks like I need some help here.”

Worker: “I’ll get your keys.”

(He goes in the back and has my car lowered and pulled out of the garage by a coworker as he returns.)

Me: “No rush anymore. They’re almost here.”

(That wasn’t true. I’d actually never even dialed once I saw the fear in the man’s eyes, but I was MAD! I went out and hopped in my car. They hadn’t done any work — which I’m relieved about — so I screeched out of there and headed to a more reputable shop. I wish I’d reported them, but it never occurred to me at the time. The whole chain went under a few years later, though.)

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No One Is Inspecting Those Excuses

, , , , | Working | March 14, 2019

It was nearing the end of the month, and as usual, I had put off getting my car’s yearly state inspection until the last week. The only time that I didn’t work when my preferred shop was open was a Friday afternoon, two days prior to the end of the month. I had conveniently made an appointment earlier that week on their online portal requesting a state inspection and oil change for Friday afternoon explaining that if I wasn’t able to, could they please let me know so I could make arrangements elsewhere. They responded saying it was fine and confirmed my appointment.

The day of, I drove to the shop, checked in, and handed over my keys and registration. I sat at one of their tables somewhat close to the desk, so I was still able to hear almost everything they were saying. I had brought my homework and was studying when I heard them tell a young man who came in that the state inspector wasn’t in for the day because he had to go to the hospital. I began to slightly panic and started looking up other shops in the area, but none were open on the weekends.

I went back to my work and heard them turn away another customer for a sticker, and another, and another, and another… Oh, no. I understand not having someone available when things happen unexpectedly, but why hadn’t anyone told me when I checked in?

When it was quiet, the woman who had checked me in asked if I had heard what she was saying. I nodded, and she told me that the inspector was indeed in and fine, but it was so busy due to another mechanic breaking his hand and going to the hospital that she had to turn away anyone looking for a sticker who didn’t have an appointment. I was relieved, and for the next couple walk-ins that were turned away, I had a slight smile of relief on my face.

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A Hole In His Story You Could Drive A Truck Through

, , , | Right | January 22, 2019

(I work in the front office of a car repair shop. Late one afternoon, a middle-aged man storms inside angrily.)

Man: “Where is your manager?”

Me: “He’s out back in the shop, but I can certainly call him up for you. But maybe I can help. What seems to be the problem?”

Man: “Your employee almost killed my kids!”

(My mind is now racing to see if I remember this customer having picked up his car recently from us, in case it was something that we either did wrong or that the customer thought was our fault — often we get blamed for issues completely unrelated to a wreck.)

Me: “I’m very sorry to hear that, sir! Is everyone okay?”

Man: “Yes! But your employee nearly killed us! I want the manager!”

Me: “Of course, let me call him up here.” *uses the intercom system to page the manager* “Did we repair your car recently? I can pull up your file to save some time when he arrives.”

Man: “What? No! No, you didn’t fix my car! I was driving on the road and he nearly hit me!”

(We do have a shuttle vehicle that is emblazoned with our shop information, so now I’m thinking that our driver nearly caused an accident, something our company does not take lightly. However, we are owned by the same company that owns two car dealers nearby, and they have their own shuttle vehicles, as well. Because our vehicles all include the company name on them, as well as the specific location — we’re “[Company] Collision” and then there is “[Company] [Dealer]” — I want to be sure the right people are informed.)

Me: “Was it the small white car there?” *gestures out the window to where our shuttle is parked*

Man: “No, not that car! It was a big black truck!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but our company doesn’t own a black truck. Are you sure it was our vehicle?”

Manager: *walks up* “Hi, what seems to be the problem?”

Man: *before I can say anything* “Your employee almost killed my kids! I want him fired!”

(He’s screaming at this point, and there are other customers in the office, so my manager guides him outside. A few minutes later, we see the man peel out of the parking lot, and my manager comes back in.)

Manager: “Yeah, so, he almost got run off the road by a truck that he followed here and saw it pull behind the gate. He wanted me to fire the person who owns it. When I asked [Employee], he said the man had pulled out in front of him and nearly caused an accident. We offered to call the police to have them look at the traffic cameras, and he decided he was going to leave, instead.”

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No Deal(ership)

, , , | Right | September 14, 2018

(I work in an auto repair shop. Just after we open at seven am, I get a call from a sweet-sounding, older lady.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Shop]. How may I help you?”

Caller: “Parts department.”

(It’s about an hour earlier than that department arrives in the office. Additionally, as we do not sell parts themselves, only order them as needed for repair jobs, our parts department only takes incoming calls from vendors.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but they’re not available. Is there something I can do for you?”

Caller: “I need a price on a part.”

Me: “Okay, no problem; however, for us to quote you a price, we would need you to come—”

Caller: *interrupting* “I can’t come in. I just want a price on a rear window.”

Me: “I apologize for the inconvenience, but—”

Caller: “It’s the rear window. You know, the glass part that goes up and down?”

(Yes, she actually explains car windows to me.)

Me: “I understand, ma’am, but as we are a repair shop, not a parts shop, we don’t just sell parts. We would need to give you a quote on the full repair work. If you’d like—”

Caller: “Let me speak to [Person].”

Me: “I’m sorry; we don’t have anyone here by that name.”

Caller: “What? Let me speak to [Person]. He works there.”

Me: “Ma’am, are you maybe trying to reach another shop or a dealership? We’re [Shop].”

Caller: “Oh. Yeah, I need a dealership.”

Me: “Ah, okay. Then—”

Caller: “Transfer me.”

(We are associated with two different dealerships dealing with two different car makes, so I can send her to one of them if needed, but only if I know what type of car she has.)

Me: “Sure thing. Which dealership are you trying to reach? Do you have a—”

Caller: “F*** you!” *hangs up*

Me: *stares at phone in shock*

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