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	<title>John's Ramblings &#187; customer no service</title>
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	<description>It's only pain, it won't hurt you. Just ride through it.</description>
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		<title>Sudden Service, my ass</title>
		<link>http://www.calnan-web.com/weblog/2008/12/26/sudden-service-my-ass/</link>
		<comments>http://www.calnan-web.com/weblog/2008/12/26/sudden-service-my-ass/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 27 Dec 2008 02:22:46 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>John</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[customer no service]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.calnan-web.com/weblog/?p=553</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Sorry, Mr. Schwab, but you gotten the last 90 minutes you are ever going to get out of me. &#8220;Sudden Service&#8221; was a concept that Les Schwab used in his tire stores&#8230; one of their service people should run out to your car to help you when you pulled in.  At my local store, all [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Sorry, Mr. Schwab, but you gotten the last 90 minutes you are ever going to get out of me.</p>
<p>&#8220;Sudden Service&#8221; was a concept that Les Schwab used in his tire stores&#8230; one of their service people should run out to your car to help you when you pulled in.  At my local store, all they can muster is a slow meander, and it&#8217;s never even close to being in my general direction.  The cast of  &#8220;The Night of the Living Dead&#8221; could kick their collective ass in a foot race.</p>
<p>Wooed by promises of great service and great product, I&#8217;ve been coming to your store and emptying my wallet for several years now.  Today I had a slow leak in one of those tires you sold me.  &#8220;Sudden Service&#8221; happened when I went inside, and stood around the counter until you &#8220;suddenly&#8221; came over to talk to me after a few minutes.  &#8220;We&#8217;ll fix your flat, be about an hour.&#8221;</p>
<p>70 minutes later, and my car hasn&#8217;t moved from where I left it in the lot.  &#8220;Excuse me, but we&#8217;ve passed the golden 60 minute mark, and my car hasn&#8217;t moved.&#8221;  &#8220;Well, that&#8217;s why we say &#8220;<em><strong>about</strong></em> an hour&#8221;.</p>
<p>Soon after, the car indeed moves into the garage, followed by &#8220;John? I can fix the back tire, but those front tires we sold you not too long ago are shot, you really should get some new ones&#8230; we can do that for you right now&#8230;&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;No thanks.&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;But it will take the same amount of time.&#8221;  Uh huh.  You expect me to believe that you can mount and balance a new set of tires in the same time-space continuum as the repair of my slow leak in the rear.  Tempting, but then I&#8217;d be stuck with</p>
<ul>
<li>Two more tires of inferior quality, and</li>
<li>Another promise of &#8220;Sudden Service&#8221; when the dang things get a puncture.</li>
</ul>
<p>Terri comments: &#8220;Boy, they are really busy today.&#8221;  John replies &#8220;They are always this busy, sort of.  It&#8217;s like this every time I come&#8230; any day of the week, any time of the day.&#8221;  My theory is that they deliberately understaff.  They keep the level of customer-no-service low enough that they can keep you waiting for 1-2 hours eating stale popcorn and watching the endless repeating news loop that is Northwest Cable News, but high enough that you don&#8217;t leap across the counter and stick a tire pressure gauge up someone&#8217;s nose to get their attention.  Those bags of &#8220;Quick Fit&#8221; tire chains could come in handy if a customer decided to throw a fit, quick, and whop you upside the head with them.</p>
<p>For one reason or another, I&#8217;ve made this little pilgrimage to Les Schwab&#8217;s house of pain 5 times in the last 18 months.  I&#8217;ve never gotten out in less that 90 minutes, and the record was about 3 hours.  Today was the speed record, at 90 minutes.  No more.</p>
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