Vol 15, Issue 11, Leduc – Wetaskiwin Pipestone Flyer
Sometimes I think my life runs like an episode of Seinfeld. Take for example when my old tube TV died it did so while showing the episode involving the soup Nazi. The events of the past week have had me thinking about changing my name to Jerry, or George or maybe Cosmo. Between a snooty waiter refusing me Turkish coffee to a newly bought used car not starting, I feel like wearing a puff shirt and talking some more with the low talker.
Okay before we get too far down this road, I should give you some background. A few years ago I bought a used car from a local dealership. For the first couple of years the car worked fine except there was a quirk with the electronics that would come and go. Now I admit I should have taken the car into the shop and had some record of the event but I did not. So by the time the problem had become serious, of course the car was off warranty and the manufacturer treated me like I was some troll pan handling him on the way to the office. Their treatment, in my opinion, lead me to a conclusion that I would never buy that brand again. When you treat customers like something you scrape off your shoes, especially with a clear warranty issue, people are not likely to buy your product again. Now I don’t have a problem with the dealership so I decided to get another car but not that brand again. I ended up getting a used 2009 Toyota Corolla. After going through all the paper work and jumping through all the hoops, I got to pick up my new-used car last Tuesday. I cleaned out my old car, put all my stuff in the new one, gave my sales guy a handshake and off I went. Or so I thought. I climb in and attempted to start it. This car has one of those fancy key-less starting systems. So, with much anticipation of soon hitting the open road in my new baby, I press the start button and stared at the dash board like a monkey who just took a bite into what was suppose to be a banana and got turnip instead. The car would not start.
After several configurations of trying to start the car and for some reason thinking that adjusting my body posture would work in starting it, nothing happened. Being a typical man I tried several more times then decided maybe to open the glove box and read the owner’s manual. After reading it a few times I came to the conclusion the car had a dead battery. The car was then boosted, I drove home and everything seemed fine until the next morning when the car would not start again. The good news was the dealership replaced the battery and everything is now fine.
The second Seinfeld incident happened last Friday night. We were sitting in restaurant downtown; you know the kind that does not serve food wrapped in paper. Before the restaurant we had spent two hours being entertained by John Reischman and The Jaybirds. A fabulous Blue Grass band. So after a fine meal my friend decides to order some Turkish coffee. For those not familiar, Turkish coffee looks like sludge that was scraped off the bottom of a crank case, heated, then put in a small serving dish. Of course I learned this afterwards.
Now our waiter was proficient at his job, but when my friend and I ordered coffee he suddenly took on a air of snootiness. He looked at me, with his best snooty waiter impression and promptly asked me if I had ever had Turkish coffee. Now I may not be the smartest baboon in the troop, but beyond the obvious things like it is black and usually comes served up in a cup what more do you need to know about coffee? I told him I have had Moroccan coffee but I guess that was not enough. I just looked at him and quickly passed on the coffee
This I guess, was a version of the customer is not right. Now cue Kramer. My door is unlocked.