You are forgiven. Thank you for my refund. Apparently it really IS all about talking to the right person AND being armed with the right information to justify your claim (Steph be sure to thank Ant again for me!).
Before I start my letter, let me just offer fair warning that this is going to be a ranty and probably quite gritty post because I am all kinds of pissed off. If you are looking for something cute and fluffy today please allow me to direct you to LOLcatz for your fix.
Dear Penske Truck Leasing,
Even though you came highly recommended by personal friends, your product sucks ass. On your website your slogan is "Penske offers high-quality moving and expert support" not 'Well it DOES get you from point A to point B". Perhaps you should take a moment to slip into something more honest like the latter. You see, your District Manager in Salt Lake City is trying to shove the whole 'well it did get you there' thing down my throat (although it feels more like up my ass - which, by the way, I don't take kindly to).
So far I am completely underwhelmed by both your products and your support.
When we decided to move cross country we knew that we needed the best possible truck to carry all of our worldly possessions some 2200 miles. That's why we called you. My Darling Husband explained the situation in painful detail to everyone that he spoke to. 'We're on a tight schedule, cross country in 4 days, weather permitting. We will be traveling with 3 kids, 2 pets and all of our worldly possessions, we don't have the luxury of waiting for someone to come out and fix the truck in transit. We need one that will go where we need it to with no or minimal hassle." Everyone he spoke to said they understood and seemed to be clear on what we needed.
Not sure where exactly the breakdown in communication occurred, clearly somewhere between the call center where the order was taken and the Penske truck location where we got the truck. All I can figure is that your rental offices received the messages via braille, morse code, ancient sanskrit or any number of other ways that need to be deciphered and apparently they lacked the requisite Ovaltine Little Orphan Annie decoder ring because we got out of there with a truck that had a shitty front-end alignment.
That motherfucker (that's right, I said it) pulled to the right like a poorly leash trained mutt who smells a bitch in heat in the vicinity and shimmied like a burlesque dancer (minus the nice view) when driving at speeds between 45-60mph. Not only was it uncomfortable to try and keep the monster on the road and off the shoulder, it was just plain dangerous.
Neither myself or my husband are professional truck drivers and we crossed not one, but two mountain ranges in that piece of shit. Oh and have I mentioned that it was the last week in February? Most of the areas we traveled were still locked in with snow and ice and many places were still slicker than whale shit.
Darling husband diligently reported the problem every morning that we were on the road. Even Cliff himself doesn't have that many notes in the pocket version of Wuthering Heights. And yet when I speak to the District Manager at Salt Lake City (oh yes, we're back to this lovely bag o'douchery) he tries to tell me that we called first in Wyoming. Really? Seriously? WHAT????? I heard the calls myself.
Darling Husband is usually a force to be reckoned with but the DM at SLC (we all know what that stands for by now, right?) has been jacking him around for nearly two weeks since we turned in the truck. Hemming and hawing and explaining everything away. Or trying to. Darling Husband in this case has just been entirely too nice.
All we are asking for is a refund for product that didn't live up to expectations by far. We aren't asking for compensation for all the money we spent to fuel the gas hog, or even for the antique white oak dining room table that was crushed due to all the aforementioned shaking and shimmying. At this point, you are leaving me no choice other than to contact the BBB to report our harrowing cross country ordeal.
Kiss my ass....
Apologies for ranting it all out here and if you are so inclined please feel free to post on your own blogs as a favor to me, even for just a few hours. I want as many people as possible to know that Penske Truck Leasing sucks donkey balls (to coin a favorite phrase from Mrs. Hyde).