Star-crossed? Must be. How else could I explain my tendency to gravitate towards weirdness. My efforts to attend a conference ended in failure as I lost my way and despite several detours could not get to the venue. To make matters worse my vehicle had a flat tyre rendering it impossible to continue the journey.
The vehicle made weird noises and so I found a safe spot to park the vehicle before I could establish contact with Roadside Assistance as was the norm. What should have been as easy as the snap of fingers, became an almost impossible feat; one that caused emotional turbulence. The realisation that my plans were foiled, and that I was immobilised for an hour or so were enough to were enough to ruffle my feathers. Each call left me feeling exasperated as the purpose of the call during an emergency was lost on them. A lack of will on the part of the speaker was evident right from the start. Little things like clarity, speaker generated disturbances etc got in the way and the call was incomplete a few times.
It is ironical and hilarious that in an emergency, instead of pulling up the details using the customer’s car registration details, would carry on with false insinuations about the car being a Victoria rego car etc. and lecturing about how to speak. My optimism that the landline at the Central Cleaning Services office, where I had parked my vehicle would resolve the matter at hand and help would be on the way was of no avail. The Roadside Assistance staff on the other side of the line stubbornly insisted that I leave the receiver of the landline dangling from where it was hung and walk to the car to physically check the presence of a spare tyre in the car. Sheer disbelief was written all over my face and I even became a little teary for not even in my wildest dreams I had not imagined such a response during an emergency. It’s not the first time I had accessed this facility and I did not have to provide any other detail other than the registration number of the vehicle. The staff had hung up on me once again.
Since I had purchased the car from Clintons Toyota, Blaxland, I had asked Clinton’s to speak to Roadside Assistance as it was part of the contract, I had signed with Toyota Finance. Instead of asking for the registration details of the car he wanted me to provide him the VIN number and then uttered a preposterous statement that it was a Victoria registration. My heartbeat accelerated, adrenalin pumped, and I raised my voice to force the staff to listen to me instead of rambling on about this and that. Eventually he gave me another number to seek assistance and help arrived after half an hour’s wait in the heat. After being exposed to insolence, poor customer service, a harangue on staying calm etc. I was glad to hit the roads. Whatever happened to excellent customer service!
A Writer's Exposé 