Last night on the way home from work, I stopped by Sears to get a battery. The original factory battery in my car finally gave out after 4 years, and I had to jump it off to head home. The only batteries Sears had in stock for my car were more expensive than I would normally pay, but I decided the convenience of a single stop (and no more jumper cables) made up for the cost of the fancier battery. In addition, I decided to let Sears install the battery, which I would not normally do – I much prefer to do my own auto work. But the rep said it would only take about 45 minutes, so my wife and I enjoyed a sumptuous Food Court dinner while Sears did the dirty work. Almost, that is.
In fact, it took over twice as long as the estimate, so I was glad when they finally gave me back my car. This morning, it cranked fine, but there was an odd rattle when the car idled in Drive. There’s a snap-on plastic cover over the fuse block, so I assumed that it just wasn’t snapped on correctly. When I dropped my wife off, I popped open the hood to confirm my hypothesis, but it turns out that I was quite wrong. The rattle was caused by a metal pipe-like piece, about 16 inches long and over an inch in diameter which was perched on top of the engine just like it belonged there.
The mysterious rattle was cause by a frame cross-member that the mechanic had removed and set aside (on the engine!) in order to replace the battery. The three bolts that were supposed to hold the cross-member in place were nowhere to be seen.
Applying the “you broke it, you fix it” philosophy, I drove back out to Sears this morning and waited for them to open. When they did, the morning rep scratched his head and mumbled that it was too bad that the computer was down, because then he could figure out who had done such a thing. A more capable-looking mechanic came up and asked what the problem was, and I explained it to him. He stared at the cross-member for a while, then at the car, then back at the cross-member, then back at the car. He said he was looking to see if the bolts had fallen off. I seriously got the feeling that he (1) didn’t believe that it could have been left off, (2) that it probably wasn’t where I said I had found it, and possibly (3) thought that I had actually taken it off myself.
Finally he looked at the mechanic’s cart (which I pointed out to him) and found the three bolts, lending my story some much-needed veracity.
This episode has two significant wrongs, which is why I am taking the time to write it down.
I. Clearly the original error was failing to re-install the cross-member. During the last 45 minutes of the installation, I watched the mechanic from a distance as he wandered around between stations, stopping occasionally to work on my car, and he did not look engaged, or, in retrospect, particularly competent. This is a rather large piece of metal to miss, and there is a matching piece on the other side of the engine compartment, so its absence is pretty clear. In addition, if he had kept his cart appropriately organized, he would have seen the three bolts, and perhaps wondered, “I wonder where those go….” Finally, he really shouldn’t have set the piece down on the back of the engine, where it was out of sight and, apparently out of mind.
Still, I would be willing to forgive all of those, but for the second wrong.
II. The mechanic this morning never showed the slightest shred of responsibility, nor did he offer even the least hint of an apology. Trust me, I was listening carefully. I was not irate, but I was clear that this was not good. Not only did he not apologize, he really made me feel as if somehow this whole thing was my fault. Furthermore, when I also pointed out that the factory-installed plastic terminal covers were also missing, he explained that it is really better to leave them off, “so any acid leaks will dry.” Just to press him a bit, I pointed out that the covers also provide protection against an accidental short circuit, he retorted that “mechanics always disconnect the battery before starting work on a car.” At this point I gave up, and resisted the urge to point out that I had always assumed that mechanics also re-installed any parts they removed, but that was clearly not the case here. I further resisted the urge to ask whether he thought the factory would go to the trouble to install the terminal covers just for fun. It’s not like they add curb appeal.
I read a report several years ago that one of the best ways for a hospital or doctor’s office to reduce malpractice suits is to simply admit it when they make an error, and apologize.
Taking responsibility, which includes apologizing for your company even when the fault is not yours, is a classy way to do business. Failing to do so will leave your customers in the state I am now in about this particular Sears Auto Center. I will not let them touch my car again.
That seems like a pretty good definition of a bad customer experience.