Life is all about relationships.
Even as an introvert, I have had a lot of relationships: family relationships, romantic relationships, friend relationships, church relationships, coaching relationships, team relationships, tutoring relationships, college relationships, high school relationships, roommate relationships, housemate relationships.
If you had asked me 10 years ago which of my many relationships would eventually be worth writing a blog about, I wouldn’t, in a million years, fathom to guess that it would be my relationships with various service advisors at a certain high end car company.
Yet, here we are.
I do not own a high end car (unless the Hyundai Accent has recently been upgraded, which I doubt), but entered into these relationships as the assistant of a person who owns a high end car.
My string of service advisor/assistant-of-car-owner relationships has lasted over 8 years, through 5 service advisors, regarding 2 cars from the same dealership (but 3 dealership locations).
Sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s bad, oftentimes it’s frustrating, and it’s always more complicated than you would think.
(Note: The names of all service advisors have been changed to protect their identities…with the exception of “Dan” whose real name might actually be Dan.)
Abe:
Abe was the first service advisor I ever worked with. I was new to being an assistant, new to car dealerships where you are assigned a service advisor, and new to driving nice cars that belong to other people. Having survived that first drive to the dealership (a long, slow, incredibly alert drive – hands at 10 and 2, Faith, 10 and 2), I was relieved to meet Abe, who was extremely nice and very helpful. He assured me that the work on the car would be done by noon the next day, put me in a loaner car, and sent me back to the office – easy as can be.
The next day, I naively arrived right on schedule at noon, ready to pick up the car and drive (slowly and alertly) back to the office. Abe explained that the car wasn’t ready quite yet and led me to a seat in the sales area to wait “for just a little bit”. There was a pot of afternoon coffee and there were magazines (all car magazines – not a People or US Weekly in sight) and newspapers. It definitely wasn’t a great selection, but it was enough to keep me updated for the anticipated 15 minutes or so.
4 hours (2 read-throughs of the Washington Post, 4 car magazines, 3 cups of old coffee, and a ton of overhearing people being sold cars) later, Abe came to get me, full of apologies for the under-estimate of the time taken.
A day or so later, I received an email from the dealership, inviting me to rate the dealership experience.
I don’t like conflict, so this was awesome - a perfect way to anonymously express frustration at the fact that my entire afternoon had been unnecessarily spent reading about cars and drinking old coffee.
A little (anonymous) constructive criticism is good for everyone, right?
So, I was as honest as possible, trying to let them know (anonymously) that Abe was very nice, but that, if I was being honest (anonymously), my experience wasn’t awesome (my ratings ranged from 5 to 9, out of a potential 10).
The next time the car had to go in to see Abe, he was less than thrilled to see me. As it turns out (as he explained to me with noticeable frustration), the survey I took was NOT anonymous. The scores I provided were shared with him, and, more importantly, the scores were shared with his boss. Apparently, anything less than a 10 is deemed bad and anything as low as a 5 was detrimental to his bonus.
My relationship with Abe was never quite the same.
Lesson: If you want a positive relationship with your service advisor, rate carefully (aka: nothing less than a 10).
Bob:
Bob was not technically a service advisor, but a “service concierge”. He actually came and picked up the car, drove it to the dealership, and brought it back when the work was done.
The set up was heaven and I LOVED Bob.
It seemed too good to be true…and it was.
A few months into the relationship, a speeding camera ticket arrived in the mail. It was from an area of DC that nobody in any way connected to the car had been. A quick look at the calendar revealed that it was from a day that Bob had picked up the car.
Lesson: If it seems too easy…it probably is.
Cal:
Recovering from the negativity of Abe and the betrayal of Bob, I was hesitant about beginning a new service advisor relationship.
I just didn’t want to get hurt again.
But a car is a car and, from time to time, service lights rear their ugly heads.
The car had to go in and I was going to have to suck it up and take a chance with Cal.
I could tell, from the minute I met Cal, that this was going to be a much better fit. He was young (quite possibly his first job) and wanted nothing more than to get cars fixed and make car owners (and car-owner’s-assistants) happy.
The assignment of Cal as the car’s new advisor coincided directly with a period I like to think of as “the dark days of car maintenance" - a year filled with strange car issues and a LOT of tire replacement.
Suffice to say, I saw Cal a lot.
The frequency of these visits would have been incredibly annoying, were Cal not such a nice guy. One day we even bonded over being the victims of crime (I had recently been through a home invasion and he had been carjacked - true “bonding” by DC standards).
Did I have to wait for repairs from time to time with Cal? – of course. BUT, the dealership had moved and now had an actual waiting area, with a television, a better array of magazines, and decent coffee.
Things were going really well.
Then, one sad day, the car needed a new tire and I called the dealership and asked the receptionist to transfer me to Cal.
“Oh, Cal doesn’t work here anymore. He was transferred to one of our dealerships in Southern California. Lucky guy, right? Let me send you to one of our other service advisors."
Wait...what?
Cal was gone?
He just took off?
Not even a goodbye call or email?
And what’s with the “lucky guy” comment...is Southern California is sooo much better than DC?
(yeah, don’t answer that last one).
Lesson: Sometimes good service advisors move to Southern California – it’s a part of life.
Dan:
Recovering from the loss of Cal was tough, but, with time, I was able to move on…to Dan.
With Dan came 2 major changes:
A) The problem car was traded in for a new model (which, requires much less maintenance – ie: I see MUCH less of Dan than I ever saw of Cal)
B) The dealership has moved, yet again, and the new location has a number of notable amenities including a huge tv, a wide variety of magazines and newspapers, a keurig AND a coffee/hot chocolate machine AND free diet coke (or water…but free diet coke!), and occasionally, on a good day, fresh fruit.
As a result of A, I don’t see Dan all that often and don’t know him all that well.
As a result of B, when I do see Dan, my mind is clouded by the prospect of free diet coke.
As a result of both A and B, when I called the dealership w few weeks ago regarding a flat tire, I couldn’t remember Dan’s name and the receptionist sent me to the first available service advisor, whose name is…
Ed:
I only met Ed a few weeks ago and have no real thoughts about him, as I was in a hurry to get to the waiting area for my free diet coke. He took a couple of hours to assess that all 4 tires needed to be replaced (yes, 2 hours seems excessive…but I was enjoying my diet coke, Dr. Phil was on the big tv, and it was a fresh fruit day…so I was ok with it) and arranged the loaner.
Two days later, when I went to pick up the car, I walked into the service advisor area to check in with Ed, only to be met by the confused gaze of…Dan.
I awkwardly waved and smiled at Dan, as I walked over to Ed’s desk.
I could feel Dan’s betrayal-filled stare as Ed gave me the update and as I walked over to the waiting area to grab my free diet coke and wait for the valet to pull up with the car.
I should have said something to Dan.
I should have apologized to Dan for not remembering his name (or maybe trying harder to figure out his name) when I called.
I should have asked Dan for forgiveness.
I should have told Dan that I would DEFINITELY ask for him next time. (I, incidentally, also should have grabbed one if his business cards as I’m still not 100% sure of his name.)
Lesson: Don’t cheat on your service advisor with another service advisor….seriously, don’t do it….it’s really awkward. Also, know your service advisor’s name.
(Back to) Abe:
As I was sitting in the brand new waiting area, waiting for the car and trying not to feel guilty about the whole “being disloyal to my service advisor” thing, I was greeted by a familiar voice.
“Hello there Faith.”
As fate would have it, Abe (the original) is no longer a service advisor, but transferred over to sales several years ago. When the car was upgraded a few years ago, he was the one who made the sale.
I’m not sure whether it’s due to time, or maturity, or the fact that he wound up getting a sale out of the deal, but Abe and I seem to have moved past the whole rating fiasco. He always stops by to see me in the waiting area to ask about the car and my boss. It’s almost as if I never gave him a 5.
Lesson: Regardless of how badly a service advisor/assistant-to-car-owner relationship might have ended, with time (and a commission) it can eventually turn into friendship...someday...as long as nobody moves to southern California.
Even as an introvert, I have had a lot of relationships: family relationships, romantic relationships, friend relationships, church relationships, coaching relationships, team relationships, tutoring relationships, college relationships, high school relationships, roommate relationships, housemate relationships.
If you had asked me 10 years ago which of my many relationships would eventually be worth writing a blog about, I wouldn’t, in a million years, fathom to guess that it would be my relationships with various service advisors at a certain high end car company.
Yet, here we are.
I do not own a high end car (unless the Hyundai Accent has recently been upgraded, which I doubt), but entered into these relationships as the assistant of a person who owns a high end car.
My string of service advisor/assistant-of-car-owner relationships has lasted over 8 years, through 5 service advisors, regarding 2 cars from the same dealership (but 3 dealership locations).
Sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s bad, oftentimes it’s frustrating, and it’s always more complicated than you would think.
(Note: The names of all service advisors have been changed to protect their identities…with the exception of “Dan” whose real name might actually be Dan.)
Abe:
Abe was the first service advisor I ever worked with. I was new to being an assistant, new to car dealerships where you are assigned a service advisor, and new to driving nice cars that belong to other people. Having survived that first drive to the dealership (a long, slow, incredibly alert drive – hands at 10 and 2, Faith, 10 and 2), I was relieved to meet Abe, who was extremely nice and very helpful. He assured me that the work on the car would be done by noon the next day, put me in a loaner car, and sent me back to the office – easy as can be.
The next day, I naively arrived right on schedule at noon, ready to pick up the car and drive (slowly and alertly) back to the office. Abe explained that the car wasn’t ready quite yet and led me to a seat in the sales area to wait “for just a little bit”. There was a pot of afternoon coffee and there were magazines (all car magazines – not a People or US Weekly in sight) and newspapers. It definitely wasn’t a great selection, but it was enough to keep me updated for the anticipated 15 minutes or so.
4 hours (2 read-throughs of the Washington Post, 4 car magazines, 3 cups of old coffee, and a ton of overhearing people being sold cars) later, Abe came to get me, full of apologies for the under-estimate of the time taken.
A day or so later, I received an email from the dealership, inviting me to rate the dealership experience.
I don’t like conflict, so this was awesome - a perfect way to anonymously express frustration at the fact that my entire afternoon had been unnecessarily spent reading about cars and drinking old coffee.
A little (anonymous) constructive criticism is good for everyone, right?
So, I was as honest as possible, trying to let them know (anonymously) that Abe was very nice, but that, if I was being honest (anonymously), my experience wasn’t awesome (my ratings ranged from 5 to 9, out of a potential 10).
The next time the car had to go in to see Abe, he was less than thrilled to see me. As it turns out (as he explained to me with noticeable frustration), the survey I took was NOT anonymous. The scores I provided were shared with him, and, more importantly, the scores were shared with his boss. Apparently, anything less than a 10 is deemed bad and anything as low as a 5 was detrimental to his bonus.
My relationship with Abe was never quite the same.
Lesson: If you want a positive relationship with your service advisor, rate carefully (aka: nothing less than a 10).
Bob:
Bob was not technically a service advisor, but a “service concierge”. He actually came and picked up the car, drove it to the dealership, and brought it back when the work was done.
The set up was heaven and I LOVED Bob.
It seemed too good to be true…and it was.
A few months into the relationship, a speeding camera ticket arrived in the mail. It was from an area of DC that nobody in any way connected to the car had been. A quick look at the calendar revealed that it was from a day that Bob had picked up the car.
Lesson: If it seems too easy…it probably is.
Cal:
Recovering from the negativity of Abe and the betrayal of Bob, I was hesitant about beginning a new service advisor relationship.
I just didn’t want to get hurt again.
But a car is a car and, from time to time, service lights rear their ugly heads.
The car had to go in and I was going to have to suck it up and take a chance with Cal.
I could tell, from the minute I met Cal, that this was going to be a much better fit. He was young (quite possibly his first job) and wanted nothing more than to get cars fixed and make car owners (and car-owner’s-assistants) happy.
The assignment of Cal as the car’s new advisor coincided directly with a period I like to think of as “the dark days of car maintenance" - a year filled with strange car issues and a LOT of tire replacement.
Suffice to say, I saw Cal a lot.
The frequency of these visits would have been incredibly annoying, were Cal not such a nice guy. One day we even bonded over being the victims of crime (I had recently been through a home invasion and he had been carjacked - true “bonding” by DC standards).
Did I have to wait for repairs from time to time with Cal? – of course. BUT, the dealership had moved and now had an actual waiting area, with a television, a better array of magazines, and decent coffee.
Things were going really well.
Then, one sad day, the car needed a new tire and I called the dealership and asked the receptionist to transfer me to Cal.
“Oh, Cal doesn’t work here anymore. He was transferred to one of our dealerships in Southern California. Lucky guy, right? Let me send you to one of our other service advisors."
Wait...what?
Cal was gone?
He just took off?
Not even a goodbye call or email?
And what’s with the “lucky guy” comment...is Southern California is sooo much better than DC?
(yeah, don’t answer that last one).
Lesson: Sometimes good service advisors move to Southern California – it’s a part of life.
Dan:
Recovering from the loss of Cal was tough, but, with time, I was able to move on…to Dan.
With Dan came 2 major changes:
A) The problem car was traded in for a new model (which, requires much less maintenance – ie: I see MUCH less of Dan than I ever saw of Cal)
B) The dealership has moved, yet again, and the new location has a number of notable amenities including a huge tv, a wide variety of magazines and newspapers, a keurig AND a coffee/hot chocolate machine AND free diet coke (or water…but free diet coke!), and occasionally, on a good day, fresh fruit.
As a result of A, I don’t see Dan all that often and don’t know him all that well.
As a result of B, when I do see Dan, my mind is clouded by the prospect of free diet coke.
As a result of both A and B, when I called the dealership w few weeks ago regarding a flat tire, I couldn’t remember Dan’s name and the receptionist sent me to the first available service advisor, whose name is…
Ed:
I only met Ed a few weeks ago and have no real thoughts about him, as I was in a hurry to get to the waiting area for my free diet coke. He took a couple of hours to assess that all 4 tires needed to be replaced (yes, 2 hours seems excessive…but I was enjoying my diet coke, Dr. Phil was on the big tv, and it was a fresh fruit day…so I was ok with it) and arranged the loaner.
Two days later, when I went to pick up the car, I walked into the service advisor area to check in with Ed, only to be met by the confused gaze of…Dan.
I awkwardly waved and smiled at Dan, as I walked over to Ed’s desk.
I could feel Dan’s betrayal-filled stare as Ed gave me the update and as I walked over to the waiting area to grab my free diet coke and wait for the valet to pull up with the car.
I should have said something to Dan.
I should have apologized to Dan for not remembering his name (or maybe trying harder to figure out his name) when I called.
I should have asked Dan for forgiveness.
I should have told Dan that I would DEFINITELY ask for him next time. (I, incidentally, also should have grabbed one if his business cards as I’m still not 100% sure of his name.)
Lesson: Don’t cheat on your service advisor with another service advisor….seriously, don’t do it….it’s really awkward. Also, know your service advisor’s name.
(Back to) Abe:
As I was sitting in the brand new waiting area, waiting for the car and trying not to feel guilty about the whole “being disloyal to my service advisor” thing, I was greeted by a familiar voice.
“Hello there Faith.”
As fate would have it, Abe (the original) is no longer a service advisor, but transferred over to sales several years ago. When the car was upgraded a few years ago, he was the one who made the sale.
I’m not sure whether it’s due to time, or maturity, or the fact that he wound up getting a sale out of the deal, but Abe and I seem to have moved past the whole rating fiasco. He always stops by to see me in the waiting area to ask about the car and my boss. It’s almost as if I never gave him a 5.
Lesson: Regardless of how badly a service advisor/assistant-to-car-owner relationship might have ended, with time (and a commission) it can eventually turn into friendship...someday...as long as nobody moves to southern California.
Comments
Post a Comment