I went today to get an oil change. Yes. All 5'1/2 feet and 97 pounds of me went at 8am to get an oil change. I never went before, mostly because being tiny, and a girl means that well.. they are going to try to sell me something.
I walk in tell them I need an oil change. They tell me to sit down. I'm all happy that was all they did. Then it happened. The big fixer dude comes up to me and says are you the one with the Pontiac? I said yes. Then he told me to follow him. Oh great.
So he takes me to the car, which is up high. and tells me he wants to show me something. Yeah like I'm going to know what you are showing me.
He shows me the tires. How the car needs new ones. Really? There's no huge holes in them or nails sticking out, but I was like well, I need to see ask the owner of the car about it. Is it really bad? and of course he said yes.
He sends me on my way. So if the tires are so bad, wouldn't he HIGHLY recommend getting it done? AKA not let me leave that the tires are going to blow up bad? Really bad sales skills there. and I'm usually a sucker.
No comments:
Post a Comment