Service Call

For Service, Call…

The problem started when I pressed the remote control button to open my garage door. Instead of a steady hum, I heard a loud grinding noise. I hoped that the door opener wasn’t broken.

It was. Because it is a man thing to do, I had to investigate. The electric motor hummed like it was trying to do something useful, but the drive chain remained idle. I removed the metal cover to further investigate the problem.

It didn’t take a mechanical genius to determine the little machine self-destructed. The plastic gears that connect the motor to the drive sprocket were totally stripped, leaving white powder inside the cover.

I considered my options. I could either replace the opener myself or I could call a repairman. I had installed a garage door opener once and almost did it correctly. I was confident I could install a brand new opener in the place of the old one. However, even I had to admit that I lacked the tools and knowledge to repair the thing. That is when I noticed the label on the metal cover, “For service, call 1-800 555-5555.” Given the two options, I chose the wrong one. I called the number to obtain service from a major department store chain.

I had to listen to a recording while waiting to talk to a real person. The recording said I could schedule a repair by going on-line.

I know, this is the twenty-first century, but I wanted to discuss the repair with an actual human. If it could not be repaired, I would just replace the contraption myself. Finally, I was able to talk to a real person.

I guessed from her accent that she was Filipino. Even though she spoke English better than I speak Tagolog, it was a difficult conversation. I became convinced that she had no idea what a garage door opener was.

I know, this is the twenty-first century, but I wanted to discuss the repair with an actual human who knew something about the product. She eventually transferred me to another number.

Again, I had the dubious pleasure to listen to the same recording, reminding me that I could go on-line to schedule a repair. The second woman also spoke English with a Filipino accent. I don’t have anything against the Philippines or anyone who lives there. They are hard working people. But I needed my garage door opener fixed and I really wanted to talk to a knowledgeable person. She asked if I needed to have it repaired or replaced.

“I don’t know if it can be repaired. If you send a repairman to my house, perhaps he can tell me.” I was running out of patience.

She replied, “The charge for a service call is $230. If you want a repairman, call this number.” She recited the other “1-800” number and then hung up.

My wife soon noticed I was foaming at the mouth with fury.

She asked, “What’s wrong?” So I calmly ranted and raved about 1-800 numbers, off shore service representatives, and major department stores.

“Why don’t you call the people who installed the garage door? Their number is on the door.”  My relatively new garage door was installed by a local small business. Sure enough, there was a label on the inside of the door, providing a local telephone number.

As soon as I punched in the numbers on my cell phone, I was speaking with a woman in my home town. When I told her the problem with the door opener, she assured me the gears could be replaced for $155. She apologized for her inability to send a repairman that very afternoon.  But she did promise to send him the next day, between 4 and 5 pm.

The repairman arrived the next day at 5 pm and completed the repairs within half an hour. As an additional bonus, he replaced a missing spring on the door opener unlatch mechanism. I thanked him for his excellent service and told him about my phone calls the previous day.

His parting words were, “It’s all fixed now. If you have any problems, listen to your wife.”