Monday Hyundai. Is This How the Week Will Go?

I know it’s Monday, but still…

I bought my last car in Naperville. That’s a long way from home, but only about a 20-minute drive from the lab. Even that drive can get extended during rush hour. So it is a nice feature that as long as I schedule my routine service far enough in advance, the dealership will send a car jockey to the lab with a loaner to leave for me. The service jockey  then drives my car to Naperville for the work. The system works well, and I have never actually had to drive back to the dealership since I purchased the car 18 months ago. It’s a good deal.

Two weeks ago my cars dashboard warning let me know an oil change was due as I approached 40,000 miles. I called the service department, let them know I wanted the car pick up service and arranged an appointment for today. I parked at the lab, cleared all my paraphernalia (tollway e-pass, sunglasses, book on CD) from the car and waited for the car exchange.

Fifteen minutes before the designated time my phone rang, an unknown caller showing up on the display. Acting on instinct (I usually don’t answer the phone for unknown numbers)  I picked up, only to have a scratchy voice on a poor quality phone ask for Jeff. “You’ve got the wrong number,” I told the caller. He seemed a bit perturbed but hung up. Moments later the phone rang again, the same number on the display. I answered (Why? you ask.) and said hello. This time the caller hung up.

Eventually, the lab doorbell rang and I heard a very confused man trying to find someone, although he didn’t seem to know who he was looking for. A hunch told me this was my pick-up man. Sure enough, when I came out to check, he was waving a clipboard with the dealership name on it. I introduced myself and told him it was my car he was here to pick up.

“You’re hard to find,” he said. “I called the number they gave me from the dealership, but it was the wrong number.”

He waved a piece of paper in my face upon which a phone number was written. Yes, it was my correct phone number, and of course, this was my unknown caller.

“That is my number, but when you called, you asked for Jeff!”

“Oh, that’s my name. I guess I got confused.”

Anyway, I signed three or four documents, gave him the key to my car, and took the keys he gave me. The loaner was a sharp looking car, this year’s version of the same model as my own car. As mine was driven away, I popped into the loaner to pull it into the deserted parking spot. I pushed the Start button, but the engine didn’t turn over. A message came on the dash, telling me the remote control had failed and I should hold the key against the “designated spot.”

I pulled the key ring the car jockey had given me out of my pocket. The first thing I noticed was the Mariano’s loyalty tag on the ring. Next to it was what looked like a house key. “That’s strange.” I thought. Finally, I saw the Hyundai insignia on the key fob. Neither my car nor the loaner is a Hyundai. Yup, the somewhat addled car jock had given me the key to his own car, as well as his home.

When I called and explained the situation to the service scheduler at the dealership she didn’t miss a beat. “Was it an older, confused looking, white guy named Jeff?” she asked. I’m guessing this wasn’t the first time she has dealt with a situation like this.

She must have gotten a hold of Jeff quickly because within 20 minutes he was back with the keys for the loaner. No harm, no foul.

But still, it’s only Monday. It’s gonna be a long week!
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