04 November 2006

And They Wonder How Xenophobia Begins

I took the truck out to get the oil changed. Not wanting to drive across town to the West side of San Jose or Campbell, where it's been done in the past, I sought a local shop. It's only an oil change. You can probably train a monkey to do it right.

I found a Chevron gas station with service bays and a vinyl banner hung inside that said $17.95 for an oil change. Putting price aside, this was far more attractive than the nearest five other options that I passed up.

An employee standing at the entrance to the garage was watching the Chevron truck fill up their underground tanks. There were no other customers in the garage. I drove near and asked, through my open window if he could do an oil change right now. "Sure, pull in here" and he pointed to a space for my vehicle. I pulled in and exited and another employee appeared with a clipboard and a service order form.

He tells me it is $28.95 and I ask why it's more expensive than his sign. He points to a small handwritten note on that vinyl banner sign that says V6, V8 extra. OK, whatever. I knew it was too good to be true below $20. I ask what kind of filter he uses. I'd never heard of the brand "Mighty".

I asked what kind of oil he would be using. He says "Shell" and I see several cases of Shell oil stacked nearby. Hmmm. Shell oil at a Chevron station? Another disgruntled franchisee, maybe??

All this time, he has an attitude about him, so I ask if he was having a bad day. "Not having bad day. Want to make it all clear so we don't have the bad day" is his reply. "You don't want it done, that's okay. You can go."

I let him know that if the job was going to be done right, we could do it. Maybe that was the magic phrase, but he began an unintelligible rant in slaughtered English while walking around items in the garage where we all 3 were standing (the mechanic was silent the entire time).

I say, "Hey Jackass, OK, forget it then. You lost one customer today and many more later". As I back out of the service bay, he lights 3 or 4 sticks of incense and begins to ??? cleanse his filthy repair shop of my existence, telling me to "go ahead and die on the road... please die on the road..." as he waves the incense above his head.


Related links above : Mehdi Shahbazi, Moji Shobeiri.


Post a Comment

<< Home