What happens when the economy kills off the knowledgeable and competent dealerships?
In my case, I’m forced to take my C-14 to the incompetent folks at Hinshaw’s Motorcycle Store of Auburn, Washington. You may have inferred that all did not go as desired and you would be correct. In fact, the only positive comment that I can imagine is that they did not actually damage the bike for the week that it was with them. One week? What major work would take a week during prime riding time in Western Washington? The plan was to R&R the Tire Pressure Sensors and the PR2’s. The service tech that wrote up the work must have been too interested in making his Taco Bell order because he certainly didn’t put any effort into something like looking up and ordering the necessary parts. This all started with a phone call Monday morning wherein I presented my service requests and inquired if this could all be handled so that I could get the bike back for a ride I had planned with a friend on the following Sunday. I was assured there would be no problem meeting that schedule. Fast forward to 1430 on Friday and I still had no contact from Hinshaw’s. I called them and was told that the parts had not arrived. It was at that point that I asked the service person on the phone which parts had been ordered and was given the part numbers. When I cross-referenced them with Hinshaw’s own on-line parts fiche, I discovered that these geniuses had ordered two new valve stems that would screw into my old and sporadically malfunctioning pressure sensors. I was quite displeased, initially because nothing had been done as promised and because it was up to me to babysit supposedly trained professionals whom I was paying to work on my bike. Once the service person realized the problem, I asked him what it was going to take to get my bike ready by Sunday as promised. He said he would have to look into it. That, of course, is the telephonic equivalent of an eye roll and a mental admonition that it sucked to be me. Next step, talk to the boss. Okay, try to talk to the boss, someone named “Ron,” (I have since developed the impression that “Ron” may actually be Ron Orr, the store owner). Three phone calls, a voice-mail for “Ron,” and an e-mail got me nada. “Ron,” must have been too busy to address his customer’s concerns. The day ended with my picking up my unmolested bike from some anonymous and vaguely hostile Hinshaw’s representative. No apology, no what can we do? In the past ten days, no follow-up from General Manager “Ron.” No one at Hinshaw’s gives a damn about my customer experience so I thought I would share with the group.
I am not here to suggest that the customer is always right or that they should always get their butts smooched, but I can think of several ways Hinshaw’s could have gone about resolving their screw-up. Had I been “General Manager Ron,” I would have tried to get the parts expressed and installed by Sunday (they are open Sundays). If that were not possible, I would have offered the customer their choice of demo bikes for the weekend. Failing either of those options I would offer to have someone collect the customer and reunite him with his bike until the parts became available at which point I would provide him with any needed transportation to resolve this issue.
Word to the wise, avoid Hinshaw’s Motorcycle Store in Auburn, WA. There will icicles on the Devil’s balls before I set a boot inside there again.
