I rented a car last
week to drive down to Palm Springs. My car runs fine, but on a 500-mile
each-way trip down California’s Central Valley, I just feel better knowing that
if something goes wrong, someone else is going to have to fix it.
Plus, there’s a Hertz
store about a mile from me, which means I can walk there and back. And usually
it’s a decent experience.
But this time—whoo.
I got a deal on an
“intermediate” class car—although I have to say that I don’t know when Corollas
became “intermediate”. As a Gold Club reservation, the damned thing should have
been waiting for me, but the rep at the counter had to fish around for it—it
was in the computer, but not in the slot.
Then he told me, “The
tank ¾ full.” What? When did Hertz start handing out vehicles without a full
tank? What a crock. But imagine my surprise when the instant I drove out onto
El Camino the needle dropped to 5/8 of a tank.
This really irritates
me—first of all, not giving you a full tank not only means you’re starting your
journey not fully ready. But it’s also much more difficult to fill fuel to a
particular line on the dial instead of full-up. The likelihood is that you’ll
either over-fill, and they won’t credit you for excess; or you’ll under-fill,
and they’ll charge you $9/gallon to hit the mark. (And of course you don’t know
whether they hit that mark or just
keep on filling it.)
It makes me think
Hertz is trying to chisel its customers for a couple of gallons of petrol every
time, and that they think we won’t notice. Which is kind of a crappy approach
to customer experience.
Moreover, the Jetta I
was given about gagged me with the perfumed car-freshener smell. And it has the
least ergonomic steering wheel design I’ve ever seen. Try driving that for 500
miles and see how flexible you are when you get out.
But the worst thing
was—the car had no cruise control, and I didn’t think to check until I started
out at 0200 the next morning. Who the hell even makes cars without cruise
control? (Well, Volkswagen, apparently, but WTF?)
Let me just say that
the 300 miles down the central valley were a gigantic pain in the tusch,
literally. And that, without CC, your tendency is to speed. Partly because you
can’t keep your eye on the speedometer all the time, and partly because you
subconsciously just want to get the bloody drive over.
Well, made it to PS,
saw family and friends, and drove back up in record time. And I did manage to
add just enough (I hope) fuel to reach the 5/8 mark (I’d called the store the
evening I picked it up and had them change the contract) before I returned it
to Hertz.
And I completely
cracked up when the rep handed me the receipt with an invitation on the back to
take an online survey. “If you rate us 9, you’ll get $25 off your next rental,”
he advised. And he wrote it on the receipt so I’d not forget:
Nine is the highest
rank you can give on that all-important Net Promoter Score (NPS—“How likely are
you to recommend us to family or friends?”).
Seriously, Hertz? What
kind of low-rent pathetic enterprise collects “voice of the customer”
information that’s completely invalid because your employees tell them they
have to give the top rating to get a $25 discount?
Guess what score I
gave them?
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