Avis Roadside Assistance Nightmare

So Sunday after Shelly and Garrett's wedding, David and I drove back to Mobile for the week. On the way down, however, we had a little surprise...the back tire on our rental exploded. Truly, it exploded.

(What was left of the tire after it exploded)

So what do we do? We call Avis 24 hour road side assistance. Mistake. BIG mistake.

First, they ask us non-pertinent questions such as the mileage on the vehicle. What could that possibly have to do with our tire exploding? Anyway, after 10 minutes of answering dumb questions, we are asked our location.

Well, we were at the Evergreen exit 93 which is the intersection of Highway 84 West and I-65 South. When we gave that to the guy, he asked "now exactly where are you?" Tell me, please, how more specific can we get? We were sitting on the side of I-65 South at the underpass of Highway 84 West. But that wasn't enough for this guy, he requested to know "exactly what our GPS said." Unbelievable. Especially since the rental didn't come with a GPS.

So the guy puts me on music hold for fifteen minutes and then comes back to tell me that a tow truck will be at our location in 50 minutes or less to change our tire and then he will tell us where to go to exchange our rental. Are you kidding me?!? He wanted us to wait on the side of the road for almost an HOUR for someone to come and change our tire and THEN he would tell us where to get the next rental. And it took him FIFTEEN minutes to figure that part out?

(Our luggage after pulling everything out of the trunk to get to the spare)

So, I, of course, tell him "we" will change the tire and wanted to know where to go to exchange the rental. Then this guy puts me on hold for another TWENTY MINUTES. Now after having worked in the client services arena for ten years, one of the most basic courtesies I learned was that you never, I repeat, NEVER put someone on hold for that long without at least giving them an update every few minutes. Otherwise you will have a very enraged customer when you come back. Obviously, this guy must have missed that day in class.

(My handy husband taking matters into his own hands)

So he finally comes back and tells me that we can pick up our new rental at the airport in Montgomery. Now, for those of you who don't know where Evergreen is located, it is almost exactly in the middle of nowhere, halfway between Montgomery and Mobile. In other words, Montgomery is 84 miles to our north and Mobile is 92 miles to our south.

By this time, the tire is changed, thanks to my supremely competent and levelheaded husband - typically, he's my calming influence, however, even he couldn't temper my outrage at this point. So what do I do after being told to drive BACK to Montgomery? I did what any other stressed out mommy with a starving (it was after dinner time), tired (again, getting late), cranky (no afternoon play time or running around - just stuck in a car seat for the last 4 hours), screaming 18 month old who had had enough. I lost it. I admit it. I completely lost it. I yelled at the poor incompentent guy and told him there was NO WAY we were driving back to Montgomery. That was simply unacceptable. Apparently, he was at a loss for words or he decided to punish me. Either way, he put me back on music hold. This time he didn't come back. Ever.

(Changing the tire with the toy jack and tool-thingys)

David finally called the number from his cell and talked to someone else. They decided that someone from Mobile airport would drive a new rental out to us and then we could exchange it. I forgot to point out earlier, that we were on the side of the interstate. You know, the road where the minimum speed is 45mph but they'll run you off the road if you do less than 70 in the South? The funny thing about "donut spare tires" is that typically they're rated for a maximum speed of 50mph on the road and not meant for driving long distances. Huh. And we're stuck 80+ miles from civilization in any direction with a Southern Interstate as the only road going anywhere. Go figure.

So after waiting on the side of the road for an additional 20 minutes, David gets another phone call. This time it's from someone at the Mobile airport. Were they supposed to drive a car to us? If so, where were we? Just my luck.

The final resolution? My mom picked me and Grace up (we were only 30 miles from their house) and we spent the night with her while David drove to Mobile by himself. On the interstate. With a donut tire. Needless to say, I was worried to death, but he insisted. To his logical mind, at the rate we were going, he could be in Mobile at the airport before Avis people figured out what exactly they were supposed to do.

(Grace sitting in the driver's seat - the ONLY place I would let her stay where she wouldn't scream her head off - she wanted to play in the grass on the side of the interstate. Horrors.)

But that's not the end to this Avis tale, three hours later I got a phone call from Avis wanting to know if we still needed roadside assistance. Unbelievable.