Won't bore with details but enough background to say, back in May Canadian Tire (I know, my first mistake) did (or claimed to) repairs on my car -- to no affect. The problem didn't go away. They further over two more visits continued to agree the problem existed and did (or claimed to) repairs -- including replacing parts they replaced. I took the car back in today and it was given a clean bill of health this time, ah, except the original problem from May exists.
That brought me onto the shop floor with the supervisor -- assistant to the shop manager, who was at home (and no one would call there despite my polite entreaties that perhaps they might appropriately do so before the customer before them went apoplectic -- "ape shit," I, again politely, explained.).
Confusion spread on a face when I asked how I could have originally paid for correcting a problem, how Canadian Tire could agree twice subsequently that there was a problem and at their expense, again twice (including repeating the original repairs) pursue that problem, then for me to ultimately be told there was no problem, and then not get any response when I suggest the original (and subsequent) ministrations on my car's most delicate front pipe were in fact not required at all, since alleged interventions by men with greasy fingernails had failed to correct the problem?
It denigrated to me demanding to see the parts numbers of the alleged replacement parts -- most especially the alleged second replacement part. Humming and hawing over that led me to say, "Okay, just fuck it" and I began to storm out.
WELL! The supervisor stormed after me (lots of storming, eh?) and began to go on and on about how he didn't need to come in on a Saturday and have to hear that kind of language, and be told to do THAT to himself. I explained I'd said "it" not "yourself" but he was not to be calmed. I smiled and asked that he not make the incident about HIM and then asked if it would have been better if I'd told him to go fuck himself on a Tuesday? He then stormed away.
I then walked the length of the shop singsonging, with much volume, "You people are fucking crooks... fucking crooks, fucking crooks." I thought that good since Mr. Supervisor, I sensed, was insulted by the language, not the nature of the action suggested in the insult.
Gee, when last I used foul language after "snapping" in a customer service failure situation, the Royal Bank sent me a Bay Card with 35 dollars on it or something ridiculous -- they were more than confused when I called not to thank them but tell them the financial compensation was an insult as they'd put a value of $35 on the insult and inconvenience their incompetence had cause me.
Sigh, you just can't please big corporations when they're trying to please you, anymore!