The Unbelievable Freaking Audacity Of Some People, Part 2
My coworker was getting a car and asked me if I could drop her off at the dealership. I agreed, dropped her off, and went about my merry little business.
A couple of months later, someone on the third shift came in and spoke to me.
Third-Shift Worker: “Hey, I thought you said [Coworker] got a car? Because she’s test driving down at [Other Local Dealer].”
I didn’t really care. Maybe she decided to take the first one back and get a better one. Not my problem.
Well, it became my problem two days later when I got a call from an unknown number.
Person: “Is this [My Name]?”
Me: “Uh, yeah, can I help you?”
Person: “We’re calling to report that [Coworker] has not paid for her vehicle in the past three months. We need you to either contact her or send in the payment yourself.”
Me: *Pauses* “Why would I pay for the car myself?”
Person: “Well, you’re the cosigner.”
Me: “No, I am not.”
And I hung up on them. I’m sure you can imagine the immediate panic, horror, WTF, and the billion other emotions exploding through me at that moment.
By now, that evil monster had long since quit the store where we worked and gone elsewhere. I didn’t know where she was, and the phone number I had for her wasn’t correct anymore. I called up the dealership where she was last seen, and I put on my absolute BEST customer service voice.
Me: “Hi. This is [My Name] from [Store], and I’m calling because we need to locate a Miss [Coworker]. It’s very important, and I was just wondering if she was there today.”
They said she was a customer there and they couldn’t say anything more. I broke down almost crying and explained the situation to them, explaining that somehow this other dealer was convinced I’d cosigned for her when I hadn’t and that I needed to find her and find out what was happening.
With as much chaos and nonsense that happens at my workplace at work, I’m pretty well known by everyone who comes in — enough that they know my voice and recognize me outside of work. The lady seemed to be one of these people, and she put me on hold. A couple of minutes later, she came back on.
Off the record, she suggested that I go and have lunch at a specific little pizza place because the service was “awesome”. I had to go to work, so I hung up and had my mom go check it out. Sure enough, [Coworker] was there, working. Mom later said that when [Coworker] realized just WHO Mom was, she went pale as a sheet. Mom was cool enough to not scream at her, but anyone who knows Mom is aware that she doesn’t NEED to threaten you. You don’t piss my mother off; you KNOW she’ll come after you. Mom very calmly and sweetly got information about the car out of [Coworker].
We found out that she’d dumped this little jalopy of a car at a movie theater. I called the towing company that did business with the store. Thankfully, the owner knew me. I asked him to tow the car to the dealership and he agreed to get it there for free.
Guess who’s been getting free drinks at my store on my watch since then? (I pay for them, but still…)
The owner of the dealership said that as a cosigner, I was now liable for not only the remaining payments, BUT I also had to replace the tires which had been slashed, the windshield which had been busted, and the radio which had been stolen.
I was aware of a state law that this specific dealership seemed to be trying to weasel out of. State law says that if you sell a car to someone and they return it in poor condition, you take the money out of what they have already paid you for the vehicle. If you have still made more than the Blue Book value on the vehicle, they are no longer responsible for payments.
This car Blue-Booked at $150. If it had a full tank of gas, it might have Blue-Booked at $160. I brought this to their attention, and they pulled out the file that had me listed as a cosigner and tried to use that.
I freaked out and channeled my inner Get-Your-Manager personality.
Me: “THAT IS NOT MY F****** SIGNATURE! THAT IS NOT MY SIGNATURE! YOU F****** LET HER FORGE IT?! REALLY?!”
I grabbed a sheet of paper and signed my name on it.
Me: “THAT IS MY SIGNATURE! THEY LOOK NOTHING ALIKE! F*** YOU AND EVERYONE YOU KNOW! I HOPE YOU FALL IN A DITCH!”
I shredded the paper I signed and took the pieces with me as I stormed out. (I wasn’t stupid.)
Owner: *Yelling* “If you don’t man up and take responsibility for your actions, I will take you to court! Do you really want that?”
Me: “That is an awesome idea, pal! No, really!!” *Honestly giddy and genuine smile* “Because, see, I’m pretty f****** sure that forgery is a felony offense and that you would be an accessory to it. I’m really eager to see what a judge has to say about it! What should I name this place when I own it?”
I left after that, and to this day, I haven’t heard a word from them. This happened about fourteen years ago, and we did check my credit report repeatedly and file a report with the police. I’m in the clear, thankfully.
Question of the Week
Have you ever served a bad customer who got what they deserved?
