I have my own sad saga of a Pep Boys experience. You may want to read it, or you may not. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't I'm so sick of them, I can hardly stand to think about it. If you would like to post this somewhere, please feel free to do so. This is my experience of Pep Boys in Kissimmee, Florida.
On August 31 I was having major trouble with the clutch on my 1997 Pontiac Sunfire. The pedal had little pressure, and it was deteriorating fast. I barely made it to the Pep Boys store located at 302 West Vine Street, Kissimmee, FL. The clutch was so far gone, I had
to fight to shift into second gear, and I couldn't shift past that.
When I got to the store, I jumped through the usual hoops (stand in a ridiculously long line, watch the people behind the counter ignore customers while they speak Spanish to each other, wait two hours for my car to make it into one of the service bays, etc.). Once my
car was on one of the lifts, I was told that the problem was in my master clutch cylinder, and that it would have to be replaced.
By the time my car had been on one of the lift for two hours, I decided to ask about its status. I was told that they were waiting for the part to be delivered, and that it should arrive within an hour. My car continued to dangle in the air, for a couple more hours.
Some time later, I was informed that the slave cylinder might be out of commission, as well. If this were the case, my total charge would be in excess of $600.00. I waited, and I worried. After a grand total of seven hours had passed, Javier, who evidently speaks no English, told Wanda that my problem was with the master cylinder only, and that the car was fixed.
Seven hours and $242.10 later, (not to mention my lost day's pay) I finally drove away. My clutch worked for ten days.
On Friday, September 10 I called Pep Boys to make an appointment for early service on Saturday. My appointment was for 9:00 am, September 11, but at 8:50 that morning I was calling AAA on my cell, for a tow. The wait for that was about 50 minutes. When I got to Pep Boys, I was told that though I had missed my appointment, my car would "be given priority". I guess it was, sort of. After about an hour, I saw it being pulled into one of the bays, and I called my boyfriend. I figured we could have some lunch, hang out, blah, blah, blah...
We went back to Pep Boys, and I was dismayed to see that my car, after three hours or so, was still on the lift. When I asked about it, I was told—get this— that Javier was really busy, that day! When I asked the obvious question, "Well, can't someone else work on it?", I was told "no". It had to be the mechanic who had done the original work. Since the original work had fallen apart, you might be able to imagine the chill this news gave me. Ron and I went away, for a little while longer.
An hour or three later, my cell phone rang, and it was Jose, the service manager. Jose said that the master cylinder had been replaced twice with new ones, and that this hadn't worked. The suspected culprit now was the slave cylinder and that kind of work is pricey. I simply didn't have that kind of money. Jose assured me that they would, of course, credit my previous charges to
the new bill. I still didn't have that kind of money. Jose suggested that I apply for a Pep Boys credit card. My blood began to boil.
I suppose I began to sound like a disgruntled customer, as the conversation progressed. (Fancy that!) Jose told me how nice he was trying to be to me, and if I didn't like it, I could get a refund on the first bill, "and we'd be even". After all the hours of tension, frustration and worry logged during both visits, I didn't see it that way. Even? It's a wonder I didn't have a stroke.
Ron talked me into applying for the credit card. So, back we went to the store, where I cried my eyes out, as I debased myself by giving information to this company, knowing I would be refused. I have bad credit. I know it, I recognize it, I'm trying to fix it, but I'm a realist. And, I was refused.
After I had calmed down a little, I asked Jose for a refund. Jose said this was no problem. All I needed
was my receipt, which was at home. Ron and I made our way back to my house, through some really lousy weather, to get the thing.in the short time it took us to get back (about 25 minutes) Jose had supposedly gone home, and no one who was there knew any of the particulars of the problem, or claimed they didn't. One of those in denial had been at the counter all the while during my last conversation with Jose.
It was Jesus (I'm not kidding—there are very few Anglo-Americans in this store) who reluctantly took up
the banner Jose had dropped, and after plenty of baloney on the phone to someone, finally worked out the refund.
It was about 9:45 last night, when my second tow truck arrived. Today, Sept. 12, my car is sitting in
the dealership lot, awaiting its turn come Monday. That's it. I will never enter another Pep Boys shop,
unless one of my friends or relatives is in there and bleeding to death. What I'd like to know is to whom,
within this screwed up company, do I address my complaint?
Cindy
Kissimmee, Florida
U.S.A.
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