Last night when I spoke to Dean, he asked me if I could be there at 8am. I told him "Sure, no problem! will I need a ride back home or do you guys have a courtesy shuttle?" He said that he would arrange for me to get a ride back home, no problem.
It's literally like 4 minutes away from the house, so this morning I poked my head in at T1 and said "I'm going to go drop the car off and they're going to run me back, call the cell if you need me" This is a 15-20m trip right? So off I went. I'd drug my grumpy children out of the house at the crack of dawn every stinkin' day, I wasn't gonna do it today too. I'm there at 7:55am. I spot JTJ (Jim the Jerk) and hand him my keys. He says "Ok! I'll call you when it's done!"
I reply "hey, I'm gonna need a ride"
JTJ "oh, the driver doesn't get here until 8:30"
"that's not an option, I left the kids at home, I need to get home"
He shrugs his shoulders and walks away saying something that sounded like "oh well"
So I wait, cell in hand, nervous as a cat.
8:30 rolls around and I go back out into the bay.
"Hey, it's 8:35, any chance of getting that ride now?"
JTJ "yeah, soon as he gets here, I haven't seen him yet"
LSS- Roy, the shuttle driver (who couldn't have been nicer btw) rolls in around 8:45. There are 6, count 'em SIX people who need rides. Fortunately, I was number 2 on the route because the other folk were going downtown. I roll in about 9:15am. An hour and twenty minutes to do a 10 minute job.
THIS is not helping my mood.
The kids were still sound asleep when I unlocked the door. Lazy bums.
Today they called me 7 times. It's amazing isn't it? When they call my house, I answer the phone. It's novel really. Each time giving me an update on how things are going and when I could expect it to be done, etc., etc.. The final call included a run down on all the other things they'd like to fix for me.
I think not.
The shuttle came and picked us up around 3:30 this evening and took us down to pick it up. Upon signing my release papers JTJ asked me to fill out the survey that will come in the mail within the week.
He said,, get this,,, you're gonna love this, "Please give us 100% satisfaction rate on service, it really means a lot to us"
I stand there, agog. It is truly a Christmas miracle that I didn't come over the counter and squeeze his neck until his eyes popped out.
I slowly folded my receipt in half, spun on one heel and walked away. As we were walking out T1 says "Did you catch that mom? 100% service?"
"yes honey, I did indeed"
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