On Monday of July 25, 2011, I took my Pontiac Sunfire to the Economy Lube Shop on University Avenue in Waterloo, ON. I needed to have an oil change done; I was leaving for Ottawa and then Baltimore, MD in the next few days following that, and the car was just about due for one. The guys took her in, performed the service I needed. They sent me on my way within 15 minutes after informing me that my A/C unit was broken (a fact that I already knew). I drove the car home, and to work the next day. The day after that I drove to Ottawa, from Waterloo, a five-hour drive in good traffic. While there, I did some running around with the vehicle, and left the following morning to drive ten hours to Baltimore with passengers along.
During the entire drive to Ottawa and Baltimore, the car behaved normally, which I am supremely grateful for. While in Baltimore, I ferried friends back and forth between the Extended Stay America Linthicum hotel and the BWI Business Light Rail Stop, as well as driving into Columbia, MD, and into the downtown core of Baltimore for a supply run on the day we arrived there (Thursday, July 28th, three days and about 1400 kilometers since the oil change). It wasn't until my friends and I began our trip home to Canada on Monday, August 1st, that we noticed there was a problem with the vehicle.
When stopping for gas halfway through New York State, the car began to steam quit a bit. Other patrons at the gas station advised me not to open up the hood, and get home as soon as possible to have the car examined. While driving, the engine temperature was not rising, and no other issues were found. We arrived back in Ottawa without incident, and while dropping my friends at their apartment the car once again began to steam. It ceased after about 5-10 minutes, and I drove it next door to stay for the night with another friend, who commented that the car stank of oil.
On Wednesday, August 3rd, I drove from Ottawa in the early morning, back to my home in Waterloo, and when stopping for gas in Kingston, ON, I noticed that the car, while still steaming quite a bit, did indeed smell very strongly of oil. It also appeared to be leaking through the front vents, and over the sides of the hood. The rims of the two front cars were coated in a thin layer. I arrived home safely, and I was quite convinced that there was something seriously wrong with my vehicle. I proceeded to go to work that day, and the next using other means until my day off, when I am able sit down with my father and have a look at it before taking it to a local garage.
When my father and I were finally home at the same time, my father opened the hood of the vehicle and immediately the problem became clear. Everything in the engine compartment was covered in oil, and the oil cap was not on the oil tank. Instead, it was perched nicely on top of the battery, quite a few inches away. Understandably, my father and I were both quite upset by this. My father put the cap back on the oil tank, where it screwed in perfectly tight, and advised me to take the vehicle back to the Economy Lube on the first chance I got. This would be the next day that they would be open while I was not at work myself, Monday August 8th, two weeks since the oil change had been done.
On Monday, a friend accompanied me to the Economy Lube location on University Avenue at 9 AM. I was completely calm and courteous at this point. Myself work in customer service; I understand that mistakes can be made and that berating an individual is not the most effective way to make them sympathetic to your issue. I spoke to Sam (the mechanic), explaining to him that I had the oil change done there, that I have driven 3000 kilometers between Waterloo, Ottawa and Baltimore, that the car had been exhibiting noticeable issues that stemmed from the mechanic, who had completed my initial oil change and not putting the cap back on properly.
After I have explained myself, Sam went into a speech about how I could not have possibly done all the driving that I had, and perhaps someone else had gone under the hood and removed the oil cap. To begin with, his tone was condescending; his choice of vocabulary was extremely accusatory, making me feel like a common idiot for believing that my vehicle had gone the distance it had. I calmly explained to him that there was simply no way that someone had opened up the hood. Myself do not do it unless I am filling the windshield washer fluid, and the only other person who would have would have been my father, who I had not been home with at the same time since the oil change, save for when we both were sleeping. The only other explanation was that someone in Baltimore had come along and done this to my car, and it seemed a touch far-fetched that someone would remove the oil cap and place it on the battery as an act of vandalism. Sam then rudely asked, "Well, what do you expect us to do?"
By this point, my patience was wearing thin. Sam was being condescending, and his overall attitude was rather smug. I stated that I expected for the oil change to be redone, the oil filter to be replaced, and for the engine bay to be thoroughly cleaned of oil. Sam pointed outside, saying that the regional manager was just arriving, and he would have to go ask him about this. Sam left the office and the waiting room to go talk to the manager. As he came across the parking lot, my friend and I turned to find the waiting room rather stunned, one gentleman even asked if my vehicle was still running smoothly; at that point, no. The engine oil light had come on, and the car was shuddering and rumbling rather loudly. My friend drew my attention outside, to where I could clearly witness Sam and regional manager (who I later found out to be the vice president of Economy Lube), Chris ** talking. Sam had a large grin on his face; his body language and gestures suggested that he found my story and issue to be something of a joke. Without asking me, the men began approaching my vehicle, at which point my friend and I went outside to meet them. We opened up the hood, and I demonstrated how the engine compartment was covered in oil. It was dripping from the hood and everything inside was slicked with it.
At that point, I was told again that there was no way the car made it as far as it did. I stated again that this may very well be a fact, but the car did. It has made it that far; perhaps, I was given extraordinary luck. Both gentlemen nod, and then Chris ** stated that perhaps the oil tank cap just popped off.
I am not a mechanic, and I am not a physicist, but I was thoroughly intrigued by how exactly the cap was supposed to have unscrewed itself and leapt over to sit on the car battery with the hood closed, while it was driving. While Chris was being a shade more polite than Sam had been inside, he was still speaking to me as though I was an idiot. I was still feeling rather condescended to by the looks they were sharing and by their tones. Chris ** told me that they will redo the oil and filter change, and "wipe everything down" for me. While this was not exactly what I was hoping for, I agreed and let them take the car up. I was told that the whole thing would take 15 minutes, and already I was skeptical, as that was how long the original change had taken. I assume that an oil change and wiping down the components under the hood would take a little longer than that.
During this time, my father arrived to see how things were coming along. I was not happy about going back to this location, as they had previously charged me for repairs I had not needed (and after reading other consumers' complaints, I feel I should have checked to see if they even completed). He had wanted to come by and make sure that they were not treating me as a moron, or worse, condescending to me because of my sex. He took a business card from the shop, and the number for the vice president (at this point we were still not putting together that the "regional manager" and the vice president were the same person as Chris ** had never introduced himself to me), and returned to his work. He told me to bring my car for him to look at when I was done.
Fifteen minutes later, the car was brought down and returned to me; it was left in front of the garage and I was told, "It's done. You can leave". By this point, both my friend and I were in shock from how rude, condescending and, yes, sexist, the entire exchange had been. We were genuinely wondering if my father had come with us from the get-go, if the entire affair that day would have gone the same. When we opened up the car at my father's work, we found out that while the oil change had been completed, and the cap put back properly, they had done a poor job of wiping down anything - my fingers still came away with oil on them when touching the battery.My father and his colleagues advised me to call the number we had taken down for the vice president of Economy Lube and explain, also to ask if this was the general way in which employees of Economy Lube treated their customers, or if I had received this treatment because I was a woman.
When calling the number, I again found myself talking to Chris **. I explained my story once more. I also explained the runaround that I had been given that morning by Sam (the mechanic), that he attempted to shuffle the blame for the mistake off onto all kinds of improbable and impossible excuses. When I was finished, the vice president introduced himself as the same "regional manager" who had been there that morning, and said that he thought they had been entirely courteous and respectful. He also told me that there was no way my car had been in any sort of bad state because they had measured the engine oil when they did the change, and I had only lost about a liter of oil. That struck me as odd. Either my vehicle is broken and displaying dashboard lights that it never has before, or these gentlemen are lying to me. I thanked him for his time, and resorted to calling the 1-800 customer service number that I found on the bottom of my original receipt, which I found only got me the following information: the only individual whom I had the option to file a complaint with was Chris **.
I am extremely upset about this. The initial mistake was simple, and something that these supposedly trained mechanics should not have missed. It is entirely probable that their mistake put my life and the lives of dozen (literally) others at risk, as my car was one of the two used during my trip to Baltimore to ferry the friends I was staying with around. It goes without saying that the mistake put the performance of my vehicle in jeopardy. While it is no longer displaying the rumbling or shuddering it had been prior to their "fix", I am still concerned that issues related to this event may present themselves down the road.
I was willing to forgive and forget, until I received the condescending, rude, sexist service that I did. Being told to my face that I must be lying, and being given horrifically terrible excuses to cover their own backs on the issue, and the tone in which this all was delivered, has done nothing to cause me to forgive them for issues that they have caused. I most certainly will not be bringing my vehicle back to them for service considering their advertising of a $19.99 oil change is also a lie. I paid $41 for my oil change, when I only asked for a basic oil change. I work in customer service; again, I know that $19.99 plus Ontario sales taxes comes to $22.59-- not $41 (though I am sure they would have some excuse for that as well). I have informed my family members, co-workers, and friends of what happened, and they in turn, have been spreading the word. After researching on the Internet, I have found numerous complaints (14) lodged against them at the Better Business Bureau, and on consumer sites such as Ripoff Report and Consumer Affairs.
The staffs of Economy Lube, in my eyes, are no better than condescending crooks who viewed me as nothing, but a university student (apparently their favorite prey) and a woman who could easily be sent on her way with a few excuses. Myself, and my friend who accompanied me are both in shock that this is the way they choose to conduct their customer service. It is truly disgusting and shameful.
