It's All Your Fault!!!

 

So this guy calls today. I could make a play on words of his last name given the way he is, but I won't do that here. 

I'll just think it. 

"I need rear rims for a 1465".

"Ok. What do you have on it for tires? 16.9 30's or 18.4 30's?"

"18.4 30's". 

"Ok, we have new 15x30 rims here which will fit 18.4 30 tires, but you have to check the measurement on the zigzag lugs. I think we've run into this before. The bolt holes are 24 and half inches center to center". 

"Well, I took one off an old 1365 one time and tried to put it on and it wouldn't fit. I had to have it redrilled to fit". 

"That's what these ones are. They are for 1365's and that's why I gave you the critical measurement; because I didn't think they'd fit a 1465". 

"How much are they?" 

"Six hundred dollars apiece plus tax". But they won't fit, so it's kind of pointless. 

"So how much is my discount because they don't fit?"

I gotta say that one took me by surprise. 

"Uh... nothing??? They do fit 1365's and many other tractors and that's why we have them. There's no discount for them not fitting a tractor outside their application". 

"Why won't you give me a discount?! They won't fit my tractor! I have to take them to a machine shop and have them redone to fit my tractor!" Very hostile, accusative voice. 

Oh. Going to browbeat me into submission, eh? Note to the uninitiated: You do not browbeat a Scotsman into submission. You only wind up sooner than later pissing him off into kicking your Depends-wearin' rump out the door. And never missing you or regretting doing it. Promise. 

Ayep, one of those kind. All his problems automatically become my problems just because I answered the phone. I may have to rethink that whole concept in the future. He's older than me by a good bit, so way too old to not know better. Not one of those under-30 crowd that won't even acknowledge you stopping for them at a crosswalk. Probably voted for the Turnip. Must have being that stupid and entitled at that age. 

"Because number one: everything is going up, not down; and number two: they do fit other tractors, which is why we have them. It's not my fault or my problem rims not made for your tractor won't fit your tractor". I could tell exactly where this was going.

"I have to pay a machine shop to redrill them and reweld them to fit my tractor!"

"That's not my fault. These aren't the right rims for your tractor". 

"Let me put it another way: you take them to a machine shop and have them reworked to fit my tractor and then I'll give you the six hundred dollars for them".

Okay, so I guess I didn't see where this was going. Wow. There is a point to this after all. It's all an orchestrated approach. Make his pre-existing problem my fault and then demand me pay for it. Barkin' up the wrong tree there, pal... 

So let me get this straight: according to him I'm to:

•  load two heavy rims up in my truck
•  take them to a machine shop and drop them off
•  pay the machine shop to modify them
•  go back to the machine shop at a later date and load them back up again
•  bring them back to my shop and unload them again
•  and then sell them to him for the same price I can sell them for to anyone else without any of that and no attitude or argument either?

Riiight... 

"Uh, how about: NO?"

How about you go... No, I'm not supposed to say that. 

"So that's the way you're going to be, huh? Well, I bought a tachometer cable for it there a year ago and it's broke!" All huffy. 

Well, you can huff and you can puff, but you ain't gonna blow this house down, wolfie. 

"Oh. Ok, you can bring it in and we'll give you a new one". I don't even know why I said that. That's out of warranty time, and you just can't expect a new tach cable to wind a 50 year old dirty, dust-tightened open station tractor tach for very long. There is a good chance they will fail. We see that often enough. Buy a new tach and cable and no problem. 

"Yeah? Yeah? Well, I think I'm going to go somewhere else..." 

You don't say? That's an option? Well, sunuvagun! Y'know, that just plain never occurred to me! Never even entered my little mind. Golly, you should take that route. Be my guest. Really. 

Seemed to have run out of angles except the pouty ol' schoolyard one we've all run into shortly after being diaper trained: "I didn't get my way so I'm not playing with you anymore!" 

"Ok. Goodbye". Sometimes that last word is such a happy one. It's so short and sweet. And final. It just makes a smile of deep satisfaction spread across my face and makes me want to celebrate with a chocolate chip muffin or something. 

Debbie had the insight to look up his tach cable purchase. Two years ago, not one. Nope, not happening, period. I had her print out the invoice and put it in a drawer in the front counter. If he actually has the nerve (I wouldn't be surprised, given his attitude and entitlement) to walk in the door and demand a new cable after two years he's gonna be SOL. 

As a matter of fact, I remember him now. Never saw his face. He's about the only one who wouldn't take his mask off when he walked into my shop and I'd say, "Take that stupid thing off! You don't need to wear those friggin' things in here!" That BS always irritated me to no end. Like I was a leper or something. Everyone else immediately ripped it off with gladness and stood there smiling, set free and completely at ease. Not the old Experienced it Differently voter. No, he kept it on the whole time. 

Nope, not going to miss the likes of him in my shop. 

Let's see, at this current rate of income versus investment I should be able to retire and enjoy all the rest of my life in relative peace and quiet from people like him some time fairly shortly after I turn 95. That's only 38 years, 14 days, 3 hours and 20 minutes from the time I am typing this. Tick tock, baby, tick tock...