What’s Your Worst Locksmith Experience?
Nope. It’s not a trick question. Most people would have GREAT stories… about the guy who got their car open at 3 am in the pouring rain. Except, they might go on to say: We waited two hours and it only took the guy 5 minutes! Give them another moment and he or she may confess, Too bad it was three hundred dollars.
So, you move into a new house - one that’s had contractors in and out for the last six months, you change the locks, right? Unfortunately… I was hugely distracted. There was a photographer there for a story the newspaper was shooting. I hate things like that. I go out of my way to avoid them, but I wanted to be sure equal time was given and ok, I’m tickled 400 shades of pink about this house, and I wouldn’t mind people seeing how cool it is. So there’s a gal snapping pictures and I’ve just confirmed with the fabulous Simon that I want the locks re-keyed.
First sign of trouble: Simon comes to me and says, No one has ever seen this kind of lock, never heard of it… I’m going to have to replace it. I tell him, fine. How much can it be? Must not be much, because he doesn’t offer it up either. Now, my HUGE mistake here is not saying: can’t you just replace it with… Kwicksets or something like that?
He comes back and they cut the old locks out - the pile of parts was incredible. But there’s one last problem: the front door. The snazzy 1954 lock is over toward the middle of the door so far, he has to replace it with a commercial lock. I think, gulp, that’s one lock that will be expensive.
In total eight locks were changed… had I been present and thinking, four locks would have been changed. Had Simon the lock-rockstar had one ounce of empathy or compassion or even enough salesmanship to keep me as a customer, he might have pointed this out. Four deadbolts and no worry about the easily-popped-if-you-don’t-have-a-deadbolt knob-locks.
The bill was over $2,000! That’s over TWO THOUSAND DOLLARS!!!!
The boss, the owner, a chief mucky-mucky won’t even speak to me just to let me say, shame on me but shame on you, too. I suppose that’s his right, but come on… I can’t believe I never said, how much will that be… but I can’t believe he never said anything either. And I suspect it’s because of the photographer. Don’t you agree? He thought we were someone important, maybe someone rich. Maybe he thought I was a little snot nose. He never grasped that I got my picture taken so I could ensure the other agent’s name was mentioned in the article. Nice gals don’t finish last, but it costs more to get there, clearly!
Please, someone have a worse story so I can sleep again… So what’s your worst experience?