Tuesday, November 26, 2013

So Pissed Off Right Now!!!

I am really really really pissed off right about now. Let me explain...

Today I went to pick up Blackjack (my truck) from the body shop. My uncle had an issue putting the front bumper on the truck because whoever owned the truck before me was in a fender bender. I also had the truck's doors adjusted and the hinges on the truck's tailgate replaced. 

It has been pouring down rain ALL DAY. Because it's Tuesday, and everyone I know works a full-time job, I couldn't find anyone to drive me to the body shop. So, I drove myself and called Allstate (I'm in their motor club) to have the truck towed back to my apartment.

The co-manager of the body shop called me Monday and told me my truck would be ready at 10:30 AM. This was after they told me Thursday of the previous week that they would need more time to work on the truck because the tailgate hinges had not arrived. Even though I was pissed off, I said ok after he informed me the doors AND the front bumper were done and on-point. 

So, I arrive at the body shop bright and early at 10AM today. Prior to arriving, I called Allstate and told them to send the tow truck to the shop. When I arrived at the body shop one of the manager's said, "Oh it's not ready yet. It should be ready at lunch, 12 O'clock." This annoyed me, but it didn't upset me. I called Allstate and asked if the guy could come later. They agreed. 

Twelve O'clock arrives and the tow truck is right on time. The manager says, "I'm going to go see if they got you ready." He leaves and goes to the garage of the shop. At that point, I walk around to the garage myself. There I see three niggas struggling to get my front bumper on the truck. 

Me: (Angry as hell) What the fuck?

One of the men: We forgot to put the bottom screws in your bumper. 

I'm steaming. Not because of what they are doing, but because my front bumper was as crooked as a gawdamn question mark. It looked almost like it did when we brought the motherfucker in the shop. Standing there, staring at the bumper, it became clear to me that they were in fact RUSHING to put the bumper on and it wasn't done prior to me showing up to pick up the truck. 

I start going the fuck off!

I mean I was cursing that gawdamn manager the fuck out. 

Me (shouting): I'm going to sue the hell out of this motherfucking business! You've had my gawdamnn truck for two weeks...two gawdamn weeks and you got niggas just NOW screwing this crooked shit on. This shit is NOT going to fly. 

Him: Ms. (insert my surname), I understand your concern and we can sit down and talk about this like two adults.

Me: Fuck that! I've been talking to your ass for the last two weeks. I just sat there in your fucking office talking to you for TWO HOURS! I'm done talking! My shit is not fixed. Does this look fixed to you?

At that point I point to the front bumper. 

He doesn't say a word. 

Me: I want my damn money back for this front bumper. 

Him: I'm not giving you your money back.

Me: (completely outraged). Like hell you not. I will burn this motherfucker down. You gone give me my money back!

At that point, the tow driver comes around the corner to see what's up. He notices the twenty-two inch rims and says I need a flatbed tow truck. I turn to him and tell him to tow the car I drove to the shop. He agrees. I turn my attention back to the manger who says, "You can leave the truck with us and pay us again...."

Me: Fuck that! I'm not leaving shit with you and I'm damn sure not paying you another damn dime! 

Him: Well bring it back and talk me and the other manager on Monday. 

Me: Fine! I'll come back. 

So, I get in the truck pissed off.  

I immediately jump on the phone and call my uncle, who took it to that shop. I tell him what has happened and he gets pissed off too. Right in the middle of speaking with him, I notice the truck has become sluggish. I look at the dash and realize the damn truck is out of gas! So, I'm forced to pull over and call Allstate again...this time to bring me some gas!

Forty-five minutes later Allstate, my uncle, and the tow truck guy (who dropped my car off at my place and came to pick up the 22 dollars I forgot to give him for the extra miles) all arrive within minutes of each other to join me on the side of the road. They all agree I have a sweet ride with a crooked bumper! 

The Allstate guy pours 2 gallons of gas in my truck and takes off. I give the tow truck guy the 22 dollars and I take down his name and number because in my mind I might need him as a witness (he saw the dudes at the body shop putting screws in my front bumper). My uncle and I go to a nearby Exxon mobile to fill up my gas tank. 

I complain to my uncle that the radio he installed is not picking up the radio. He climbs in and removes the stereo to replace the annetenna in the back of the radio. That's when he says, "Your astray is missing." I look down and notice a hole...a very big and noticeable hole under the radio. I didn't notice it right away because I was pissed off about the front bumper and the gas situation. 

One the niggas at body shop jacked the ashtray out of my whip!

Some of you might be thinking....why would they steal an ashtray? 

This is NOT a normal size ashtray. This was a huge ashtray that literally takes up half of the lower dashboard. It pulls down to open. The right end of it also connects to the glove compartment. Without it, the glove compartment hangs loose. I've been in that glove compartment at least three times. It was not loose before. In order to get the ashtray out you have to remove the bolts around it! The only folks who would have time to remove that ashtray without being noticed are the niggas in that shop. 

I'm 100% sure it was there when we took the truck to the body shop because I remember looking at it when I was checking the paint job my uncle did on the interior. My uncle remembers the ashtray because he had to paint it. That motherfucker was there when we dropped off the truck! 

My guess is that some nigga working at the shop jacked it to replace his own lost ashtray. 

Anyway, I'm more pissed off than ever before. I called the shop and demand to know who the fuck owns the shop. The manager refuses to give me the name. I tell him about my missing ashtray. He swears they don't have it and his tone is clearly one with an attitude. I hang the phone up. This nigga called me back 20 seconds later and said and I quote, "Fuck you and your ashtray." 

I put his ass on speaker phone so my uncle can hear him. After he hangs up, I called him back. 

Me: I'll see you in twenty minutes motherfucker! 

My uncle and I...both equally pissed off...take off for the shop. 

On my way to the shop, I phone the police. At this point, I already have it in my mind I'm going to file a lawsuit against this business. The "fuck you" comment from the manager is the icing on the cake for me. 

My uncle and I arrive at the shop and the manager immediately looks like a deer caught in the headlights. I'm assuming this is because he thought I was showing up by myself. First thing I say upon walking through the door, "Fuck me and my ashtray huh? No, nigga fuck and this business. Best believe I'm going take my time fucking the hell out of you in court." 

My uncle steps in and tells me to calm down. At that point, he walks out with the manager to look at the bumper. The other manager, who I was told was home sick (thus why he told me I could leave the truck and they would look at it next week....these niggas just keep lying), suddenly popped up and walked out to look at the bumper as well. This nigga begins telling my uncle that the bumper needs another part to be corrected. Mind you, in the two weeks they had my truck this information was NEVER passed to me. I was told on two different occasions that my front bumper was FIXED.

Fulton County police shows up. I take one look at the fat ass black guy that climbs out the police car and roll my eyes. This man looks as if he's having a bad day as well. It becomes clear that he actually knows the two managers of the shop on a first name basis. He tells me point blank this is a civil matter and I will have to sue them.

Me: Oh no officer, I called you because some property from my vehicle was taken. Now unless I woke up in a third world country I do have a legal right to file a police report about my stolen property. 

I give him a look I hope reads, don't test me. 

The police officer's face becomes a noticeable scrowl. It's almost as if he HATES to take my information to complete the police report. Fulton County police department and APD ain't shit. I HATE dealing with them. 

So, the officer gives me a case number. At that point I leave the body shop. I've been pissed off and angry all damn day. 

I do NOT like doing business with black men. I tell you no lie, every single time I have ever taken my car to a black run car shop for any type of repair shit has turned out FUCKED UP! 

In my experience, black men who own/run auto body shops lack professionalism. They try to cut corners and screw you. Evey time I have taken my car to a shop owned by a black man it's been a situation where I have had to turn around and take my car to a white owned dealership to get the shit done right. I've had to spend MORE money dealing with black men and their mistakes/errors/failures than I have at high priced white owned dealerships!

I guarantee you had my uncle taken my truck to a white owned business I wouldn't be pissed off and writing this blog right now.

In my twenty-eight years on this earth, and living in the rural south, I have NEVER had a white manager of any business call me and say "FUCK YOU..." 

These niggas have fucked with the wrong one. I'm filing suit in small claims court TOMORROW! They gon pay what they fucking owe!
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