(Our dealership service department runs a skeleton crew on Saturdays; on the weekdays there are five service advisors working but on Saturdays there’s only one. I’m the newest employee and therefore I’m the “lucky” one to work Saturdays. This means if anyone has a question on Saturday they get me, even if they usually work with someone else. A customer approaches me and tells me she’s glad to see a woman working in my position and that she’s had experiences with men in shops treating her like she doesn’t know anything. She starts to ask questions about a symptom she’s having, then asks if the vehicle might still be under warranty. Different cars carry different warranties, so I ask her for more information.)

Me: “What kind of car do you have?”

Customer: “Um… I’m not sure.”

Me: *wondering how some people have no idea what they drive, though it happens periodically* “Has it been here before? I can try looking it up in our system.”

Customer: “Oh, yes, I’ve brought it here many times!”

Me: “Perfect! Let’s try to find you in the computer. What’s your phone number? That’s the easiest way to look up cars in our database; the last name lookup function can be buggy sometimes.”

Customer: “Um… I’m not sure. Try [number].”

Me: *types it in* “It doesn’t look like it came up under that number. Do you have another?”

Customer: “Try [different number].”

Me: *tries the new number* “Nope, still no luck. Sorry.”

Customer: “I can’t think of any other numbers.”

Me: “Maybe we should try your last name after all; it does work most of the time.”

Customer: “Um… I don’t know what name it’s under… How about a social security number? I bet that would find it!”

Me: “No. We don’t do financing in the service department, so we would never collect information like that about a customer, let alone save it.”

Customer: “Oh. I guess I didn’t buy the car from you guys, anyway, so I never would have filled that out here even for the credit.”

Me: “Yeah, let’s try the name lookup. What’s your last name?”

Customer: “I don’t know; I’m not sure what name it’s under. Try [Name that’s usually a first name].”

Me: *types it in and it doesn’t come up* “It doesn’t seem to be working… Just to be sure, that’s your last name?”

Customer: “No, it’s my first name.”

Me: “Sorry about that! It does file by last names. What’s yours?”

Customer: “[First Name].”

Me: “No, your last name.”

Customer: “[First Name].”

(When she did eventually manage to remember what her last name was, surprise! We found her car in the system. But I still wonder how she doesn’t know what type of car she drives, what her phone number is, or what her name is, but was SURE I could find her car with her specific social security number that she was so ready to give out. I also did not tell her that when people treat her like she doesn’t know anything… it’s probably not because she’s a woman.)

(I work at a dealership. At 3:56 pm, a car pulls up into the service drive. My coworker greets the customer driving the car.)

Customer: “Hi! I’m here for my appointment, but I’m a little late.”

Coworker: “Oh, what time was your appointment?”

Customer: “I forget. 9:15? 9:45?”

(Their appointment was for 8:45 am. “A little late,” indeed. We had them reschedule. We’ll see if they’ll maybe be a little less late next time.)

A few years ago I was working at a dealership for a manufacturer that produces notoriously terrible cars. Our service department was open on Christmas Eve, though with shorter hours than normal. I was hoping to get out a bit extra-early — which I did! — we booked light, but of course, we kept hoping that unexpected cars wouldn’t show up. Around noon, a car without an appointment pulled into the driveway, and when I saw who was getting out I thought, “Crap! Why is she here?”

She was a customer I knew well: an older Russian lady who was perfectly nice, but paranoid and oversensitive about her car. We’d had quite a few occurrences of her coming for “symptoms” that were not, in fact, actual issues but just the normal operation of a crappy sort of car. Helping her also tended to be rather time-consuming as English was not her first language. I was dreading finding out why she had pulled in.

She came to bring me a box of chocolates and thank me for being so helpful to her over the past year, taking the time to explain her car’s idiosyncrasies and make her feel safe driving it. She said she knew she could be difficult, but that she really appreciated knowing that I was there to help her out and keep her mind at ease.

The gesture had a big impact: I’d been getting jaded, but she really helped me remember why I love my job, and how even the frustrating moments can be part of a rosier big picture. I continued to work with her, but dreaded seeing her far less as I was able to remember how our visits could be rewarding for both her and me. A year and a half later, when her lease ended and she turned the car in, she brought me her favorite snack from her home country, gave me a big tearful hug, and told me if the car wasn’t so terrible she would’ve bought out the lease so she could keep coming to see me for service. I don’t know what she’s driving now, but I hope it’s taking good care of her!

Related:
Driving Home The Kindness, Part 14
Driving Home The Kindness, Part 13
Driving Home The Kindness, Part 12

(My mother lives in a small town. She bought her first car while already in her 40s, at the only dealership in her town that sold the particular brand she wanted. She decided to service it at the dealership since she didn’t really know of any good garages. This dealership, like many others, offers a service where they will give you a ride to work and get you back — provided that you work within a certain distance — so that you’re not stuck at the garage waiting for your car for hours or having to take a taxi. One day in November, my mother brings her car in for routine maintenance and to have her winter tires installed.)

Service Advisor: “Okay, ma’am, you’re all set. You can wait to get a ride with [Employee]; he’s currently giving a ride to another customer but should be back in a few minutes.

(My mother decides to wait a bit. At some point, she sees the dealership car coming close to the entrance to drop off another customer, so she heads outside towards the car. The other customer gets out of the car and closes the door. My mother is a few feet away and starts towards the car door, but the car suddenly moves forward quickly and peels out of the parking lot, leaving my mother there. She heads back inside to talk to the service manager.)

Mother: “I was going to get in the car to go to work and your employee just left. Is he coming back? Is there someone else to give me a ride to work? I don’t want to be late.”

Service Manager: *looking out the window into the parking lot* “He did what?! I’m really sorry, ma’am. I’m going to call him.” *on the phone* “Hey. Where are you? You’ve got a customer here that needs a ride.” *pause* “What? I don’t care if you’ve had breakfast or not. Come back here right now and get the customer.”

(My mom is irritated but brushes it off and goes to work. When she comes back at the end of the day, she sees that her car is still on summer tires. She goes to the counter to talk to the service advisor.)

Mother: “Excuse me. I’m here to pick up my car but I see that the summer tires are still on it. Why didn’t you change them?”

Service Advisor: *condescendingly* “Well, ma’am, your tires were too worn out to make it through the winter. We couldn’t install them on your car; that was not safe.”

Mother: “Okay, but why didn’t you call me? Winter is coming. Obviously, I’m going to need winter tires, and now I’m going to have to come back another time just for that.”

Service Advisor: *sheepishly, as if the thought of calling my mother didn’t even occur to him* “Huh… I guess we could have done that.”

Mother: “You should have! It’s very inconvenient that I have to come back for something that was supposed to be taken care of today. Wait a minute. I’ve paid you guys to store my winter tires since last spring. Are you telling me that I paid for six months of storage for nothing?! Why didn’t you tell me my tires were too worn out before storing them?!”

Service Advisor: “…”

(My mother spoke to a manager, who refunded the six months of storage, but she still had to come back to have new tires installed. After a few similar blunders by the dealership, my mother vowed to never, ever do business with them again. About ten years later, she still hasn’t set foot in that dealership, and she still gets a bit worked up if I bring up that story.)

(I work in the service department of a car dealership. Despite the fact that I’m a girl and in my mid-20s, I know a lot about cars. A grumpy old guy in his 70s comes in.)

Me: “Hi! How can I help you?”

Customer: “The car told me to get my brakes fixed.” *refers to automated message in the car*

Me: “Sure. Let’s make an appointment, then.”

Customer: “No. You have to do it now!”

Me: “Sorry, sir, but that’s not possible. We are fully booked for the next couple of days. However, if you could leave the car here, I could get someone to drive you home, and we could possibly manage to get it done by tomorrow evening.”

Customer: “No! I’m going on holiday tomorrow morning, with the car! Can I drive to [Place about 600 miles away] with the brakes being in this condition?”

Me: “No, sir, I don’t think you will make it there. When did the car start to show you this warning?”

Customer: “Two weeks ago.”

Me: “…”

Customer: “Can you tell me what the new brakes are going to cost?”

Me: “Sure. It will take just a few minutes.”

(One of our mechanics takes a look at the brakes, and then prints the offer for the customer. We have hardly any influence on the prices, as they are given by the brand. I hand the offer to the customer, and he tells me he will be driving home to think about it. I then give him some information on how to make the brakes last a little longer, like avoid using the speed limiter.)

Customer: “No! You are wrong! That’s not true! You don’t know anything about cars! Why do you say something like that when you don’t even know how brakes work!?”

(I try to keep calm but tell him I know what I’m saying, as I was trained to know things like that. He insists I don’t know anything and leaves, refusing to make an appointment. About three weeks later, the same guy approaches our store. I recognize him immediately, and I tell my coworker I’m going to take this. He comes in and pretends we have never met, obviously hoping I have forgotten him. He tells me the exact same story — that he needs his brakes fixed — and asks for the price.)

Me: “Oh, what happened to the offer that [Mechanic] printed for you? You took it with you when you were here three weeks ago.”

Customer: *shocked that I recognized him* “Um, I, eh… I guess I lost it.”

Me: “Well, okay, then. We can just print it again. The price will be the same.”

Customer: “Oh… The price is going to be the same?!”

Me: “Yes, and we still need to make that appointment.”

Customer: “But I can’t make an appointment! Why can’t you do it now?”

Me: “For the same reason I told you three weeks ago. We can’t let other people who have made appointments weeks ago wait, just because you don’t want to make an appointment.”

Customer: “Now that’s ridiculous. Let me talk to a mechanic.”

(I call one of the mechanics on duty and tell him the whole story. He then tells the customer the exact same things that I told him, but the guy continues to ask really stupid questions.)

Mechanic: “Look. I really don’t have time to talk to you about things that you could have easily asked [My Name]. I have work to do. Now, if you have any more questions, please go talk to [My Name]. She is great at her job and knows what she’s talking about.”

(I can’t help but smile and wave slowly at him. He comes back to me, obviously pretty unhappy with what he has just been told.)

Customer: “I’d like to make an appointment.”

Me: *with big smile* “Sure. The next appointment will be available next Thursday.”

Customer: “Okay, I’ll take that.”

(When he came to pick up his car after his appointment, he told me he did some research and it turned out I was right with everything I said. He used to be a mechanic himself and said things had just changed so much since he retired. Apparently, he was just extremely sad to find out that his knowledge from twenty years ago wasn’t going to help him anymore.)