Don't Grease Monkey With Me

I spent the past weekend in Customer Service Hell. Thankfully, I escaped to live another day and to share my experience with you. It all started when the water pump on my auto went out while I was in Newport News. Not knowing who the local crooks were, I decided to use a national auto repair company. I won't mention any names, but I will say that I spent, over the weekend, MANNY MOments on the phone in an attempt to keep this nameless company from JACKing the price up on me by selling me things I didn't need or want.
And, they had the nerve to be rude about it while trying to slip their hand as deeply in my wallet as possible. Actually, the company's toll-free service was great. The reps with whom I spoke were very polite. But, I knew I was in trouble when I got to the store and began speaking with the counter guy.
I actually complimented him on the customer service I had received to that point. His reply, "Good thing you weren't here yesterday. I really had to go off on a customer." That was reassuring. Then he said something that really has me scratching my head. You better sit down for this one. He said, "What bugs me is that some customers want me to empathize with them. Hey, they brought their car to me. If they wanted empathy they should never have brought their car in."
I swear. He really said it. But, at that point, no one had tried to bilk me, so we didn't have any confrontation. That came the next day when I got a message from home that a mechanic (I'll call him James, since that's his name) had left a message earlier in the day to call. I had specifically asked Mr. Empathy to call me on my cell, so when "James" said I couldn't get my car back until 5PM Monday because I had taken so long to call them back, I blew just a little hotter than the car the day previously.
I told him I had given the other mechanic ("Chuck") my cell number, and he ("James") told me I hadn't. Nothing makes me happier than to be called a liar. Then "James" saw my cell, so he said, "Well, you didn't give me the number, you gave it to 'Chuck.'"
I less than cheerfully replied, "You both work for the same company, Idiot." Okay, I admit, I probably shouldn't have called him an idiot, but that's the term I use for idiots.
He, being the big macho mechanic replied, "Hey, why don't you come down here and say that to my face."
Ooooooh, I'm scared. Not because I'm tough, but because I know there's no way I'm going to come down there and say it to his face. In fact, I'll slither in on my belly to avoid him. Knowing I'm safe, I say, "Oh, so you're not just an idiot. You're also a thug."
Well, I'm going to make a long story short. Eventually the manager called me back and somewhat apologized. He then proceeded to explain how the company was going to try to hike a $200 job into a $400 job. And after a twenty minute conversation, in which I refrained from using the word 'idiot' even once, he agreed to do only the repair that was needed. He wanted an additional $50 just to put anti-freeze in.
And after a series of phone calls, each resulting in being put on hold for ten minutes or so, I finally got the company to do my repairs this morning. I paid my bill, slithered out to the car and drove away. Free at last.
And that's how I spent my weekend? Hope yours was just as pleasant.