Argabarga, how you deal with road service companies, I have no idea.

[wagegoth]

A couple of months ago, I got a flat tire. Very bummed, as it had less than 5,000 miles on it, but it was punctured so badly it was dead flat. And then the brand new jack handle was stuck and I couldn't change it. So I called the service that is provided by my cell phone provider.

That was interesting.

First, I was put through to a tow company and the person who answered spoke English as a second language very poorly. He told me he was putting me on hold, and just left me there, and then disconnected. He had sounded pretty frustrated.

I finally got back through to the provider and got a very nice woman with very poor language skills, but she was extremely nice and trying to be helpful, so I literally had to spell my way through my explanation of what had happened. This time they put me through to a different company and got a truck out there in less than half an hour. The guy was able to get the spare on very quickly, and everything went well.

But it took well over an hour from the first time I tried to call until I was put through to the tow company that was willing to show up.

On top of all this, I was in our underground lot, which was locked at that point for the night, so it had to be stressed to the driver exactly where I was, because most of them assume we're in an above-ground multi-level parking garage across the street. When the driver arrived, I had to meet him out front and we had to go around through the building to get down to the garage level I was on.

[paxillated]

I told this story on one of Arga's threads... my car broke down at Lovely St and Beautiful Drive. (pseudonyms)

The dispatcher was in Big City, where there is an intersection by that name. But I was out in the sticks, about 45 miles south of Big City. I had no cell phone; there was no service out there anyway. I had to walk to the nearest house - three times - to call. Thank God it was "flyover country" where people are nice.

I told the idiot dispatcher no less than 3 times in my first call, and my second call ("Did he go to Lovely st and Beautiful drive in Big City? Yes? Well, I'm 45 MILES SOUTH OF THERE.") On my third call I cancelled, and called home since Hubby would have gotten home by then. Hubby came and got me.

Next morning I called and got a different dispatcher. I told her the story, and the truck got there not too long after we did. Apparently, HER ears were connected to her brain!

I didn't ask, but would bet that Ms. Duh sent a truck from Big City. Their maps wouldn't have included my dirt roads. But Ms "I Listen" sent hers from Suburb Town Closest to Dirt Road, for whom it was only 20 miles or so.

[An Haddock]

I'm kinda scared to order where I live now -- I'm in a "rear apartment"/separate building behind another house, but the layout is such that my actual *address* is on Street A, but you can only get to where I am via the connecting sidestreet. Basically, I have to hope that the delivery guy actually reads the note that says "come around the side to the back yard" >_<

Our old apartment was exactly like that. Not only did we have drivers going the next town over because we share zip codes and addresses on the main drag, then I'd have to go through a lengthy explanation that to get to the second floor, they'd have to go down the side street next to us, look for the alley, then go up the rickety metal stairs.

So glad we moved. More space, easier to find, no delivery problems. Only downside is a lack of nearby parking.