My car had a recall released late last year. It was for the airbag module, so I made the appointment as soon as I received the notice. This would be the first time I brought the vehicle to the dealer since I bought it (I do my own maintenance), so I was also excited to see what services the manufacturer recommends for my car.

The day of my appointment comes, I go to the dealer, give them my info and keys, and sit in the waiting room. About an hour passes before I get a text; it’s the dealership. They had sent me a video of their multi-point inspection, and a link to approve or deny the services they are recommending. One of them is an automatic transmission fluid change. Confused, I go to the service desk to talk to the service advisor.

Service Advisor: “Hey, did you get the text?”

Me: “I did, I’m just a little confused. One of the recommendations is an automatic transmission fluid change?”

Service Advisor: “Yes, it is recommended by [brand] that the ATF is replaced at 80k miles. You are at 84k, and we have no history on your vehicle. Have you had it done somewhere else?”

Me: “No, I haven’t, because my car has a manual transmission.”

Service Advisor: “…”

Me: “With that being said, please just complete my recall. Thank you.”

I looked it up later, and the ATF for the automatic version of my car doesn’t even have an interval, whereas the manuals do, and it’s 60k. It was done by the dealer I bought the car from.

I also brought it to the only other dealership in my state for that brand to confirm that my software was indeed updated, as I was very skeeved out by the mechanic working on my car not even knowing it has a manual transmission before recommending work to be done. It wasn’t.

My boss comes down from the office to speak to one of our mechanics. The mechanic is very good at his job, but his English is a bit work in progress.

Boss: “Hey, [Coworker], did you work on [Customer]’s rims yesterday?”

Coworker: “Yes, boss.”

Boss: “Okay, I know we refer to everything around here as ‘a job’, but let me explain to you why we do not offer customers ‘rim jobs’.”

Today I had a man call the store.

Me: “Thank you for calling [Store Name], how may I help you?”

Customer: “Yes, hello. How you doing, babydoll?”

He didn’t even let me answer him. I said, “I’m fine, how are you?” But he spoke over me.

Customer: “Yeah, I’m looking for a floor jack.”

Again, I went to answer, but he didn’t let me speak.

Customer: “Do you know what I’m talking about? You know what a floor jack is, it’s something you use to…”

This time, I did interrupt him to make the call quick.

Me: “…yes, I know what a floor jack is. What size are you looking for?”

Customer: “I didn’t mean to make you mad. I just wanted to make sure you knew what a floor jack was. It goes underneath cars.”

Me: “I’m not, I was telling you that I knew what one was.”

Customer: “Well, sure. Anyway…”

Me: “What size are you needing?”

Customer: “You know that there are different sizes, right? Like 1.5 ton, 2 ton, 3 ton. They go underneath cars.”

Me: “Yes, I know there are different sizes. I know what they’re used for. Ours start out at a 1.5 ton, and they go up to 4 tons. I asked what size you needed.”

Customer: “Well, excuse me. You have a 3-ton that’s a bit longer, around 4ft.”

Me: “A 3-ton long reach? Yes, we do carry the long reach ones. They’re [price], and we have all but blue and green in stock.”

Customer: “Haha, I don’t care about color. That doesn’t matter.”

Me: “Okay, I’m just letting you know what’s in stock.”

Customer: “Yeah, okay.”

Then he hung up on me.

I spoke to him normally, but it really p***ed him off that I knew what a floor jack was.

I was working the front counter at an automotive shop on a Sunday, the last day of the month. A customer comes in and requests a state vehicle inspection. We did the paperwork; he gave me the keys, and as he was walking out, he said:

Customer: “Oh, the check engine light is on.”

Me: “If the check engine light is on, it won’t pass the inspection.”

He spun around and said:

Customer: “Wait; they passed it last year.”

Me: “I’m not sure how, but we have no way to bypass the inspection machine.”

Customer: “Oh, I have a waiver.”

In New York, if you spend more than $500 trying to fix the problem, the DMV MIGHT issue a waiver for a year. It only lasts one year, and they will only ever issue one waiver over the life of the car.

Me: “Oh, may I see it?”

Customer: “They kept it last year.”

Me: “You had a waiver for last year; you’d need a new one for this year.”

Customer: “Isn’t there anything you can do?”

Me: “You waited until the last day of the last month you had… on a Sunday… and then ask if there’s anything I can do? No, I’m sorry, there isn’t. The waiver was to give you a year to fix the problem. I’m sure they explained that to you. Why didn’t you fix it?”

Customer: “Well, I didn’t have the money.”

I am thinking: “Well then, you don’t have enough money to drive a vehicle in the State of New York.” But out loud I say:

Me: “I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do.”

He scooped up his keys, gave an annoyed grunt, and strode out of the shop. Two customers in the waiting area burst into laughter.

We once had a man in his sixties throw a full-blown tantrum when he saw a female mechanic test-driving his car. I’m talking full toddler meltdown; yelling in the middle of the shop.

Customer: “What the h*** is this?! Women shouldn’t be driving cars! How dare you let a woman drive my car! What were you thinking?!”

His wife is standing right next to him. She sighs and steps in with the calmest voice imaginable.

Customer’s Wife: “Look at it this way, honey… if they fixed the car so well that a woman can drive it, then it must be really fixed up good.”

He actually pauses… thinks about it… and nods. He mutters and grumbles, but drops it.

I’m impressed she’s developed the skill to handle him over the years, but wow, she’s definitely enabling his sexism.