THE GOOD FOLKS AT FORD
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Sometimes, if you just make a little bit of racket, you can get things to go your way.
It all started when I received a letter in the mail from Ford Motor Company advising me of a recall on the head gaskets on 1995 Mustangs. First off, let me tell you that I have no idea what a head gasket is. I thought it was slang for a crazy person. But if the people who make the cars tell me that there is a potential problem, one that could blow up your car or something, I tend to listen. (For the record, Ford never said the faulty head gasket could blow up your car, but I have seen enough movies to know that the slightest thing can make a car burst into flames.)
As I read the letter through, a little light bulb illuminated over my head. This was because my wife had just entered the room and turned on the light. Coincidentally, I also had a thought at that very moment. "Honey, didnt we replace the head gasket on your Mustang a few months ago?"
"Yes," she replied. "And we also sold that car about a month ago, so whats your point?"
I explained to her that there was a recall, and that Ford was offering to either (a) fix the problem or (b) reimburse you if you had already fixed the problem. I decided that I would give the folks at Ford a call and see if they would be willing to pay me back, despite the fact that I didnt, technically, still own the car.
I called and spoke to a very nice woman, who patiently listened to my exciting tale of head gasket repair. I told her that I would like for Ford to pay me back, since I had replaced a problem that they acknowledged was faulty on Mustangs. She told me that they would not be able to since (a) I no longer owned the car and (b) I didnt have the car repaired at an authorized Ford dealer.
I started to get a little ornery, when it occurred to me: theres really no reason to take out my frustrations on this poor woman, whos probably putting herself through college working a miserable customer service job, all the while people complain to her like she can impact the decisions of the Ford board of directors, as if the ghost of Henry Ford is going to descend to the customer service center, perch on her phone and ask her for insight. (Sorry, got a little off track there.)
I thanked her for her help, and decided I would take matters into my own hands. I would write a letter to the head of Fords customer service! I would cc the CEO, a man names Jacques. I would even cc the President of Ford, William Clay Ford, direct descendent of Assembly Line Henry himself! It was time to do battle! Here is David, the lowly consumer, ready to wage ware on Goliath Motor Company! Lets get it on!
Boy was I disappointed at the result. About a week later, I got a call from a guy at Ford saying he had received the letter. He told me how the most important thing was making sure that "you, Mr. Gibbons, are a happy Ford customer." Here I was expecting the Axis powers to come storming my house, and I get Chip, the guy who wants to make it all better. Curses!
Chip told me that I needed to head down to the local dealership with a copy of the receipt from the repair, and they would file it and take care of it. He even ended the conversation with, "Now, is there anything else I can do for you today?" I should have had him do my laundry.
I headed down to the local dealership, thinking there is no way this will be that easy. Perhaps Ford has set a trap for me. Yes! Thats it! The war was back on!
At the dealership, they were even nicer than Chip. Apparently, in order to work for Ford, you have to go through a semi-lobotomy that removes the nasty lobe from the brain. I mean, here it was in the middle of summer, a guy shows up with a receipt for work done six months ago on a car he no longer has, and they invite me to stand inside in the air conditioning so as not to get too hot while theyre processing it!?!?!?! What is the world coming to when customer service is taken to this level? Who am I going to be mad at? How am I going to write columns? Someone needs to wrong me!
About a week later, I was reimbursed for the repair work. And all I had to do was ask. Well, ask, and then write a letter asking again. But you get the point. The point is, the folks at Ford took care of me. Although the laundry is still sitting there. Chip?