“Experience is simply the name we give our mistakes.” —Oscar Wilde
Being self-employed has its advantages. You can set your own schedule, not be beholding to anyone and keep the fruits of your labors (when there are any). There are, I suppose, an equal number of disadvantages as well. As former president Harry Truman once declared, “The buck stops here.” Every owner-operator in auto glass pays dearly for their mistakes and it becomes imperative to minimize them.
I have come to hate Fridays. To me, the worst disasters in my business often have occurred once it has passed noon on the last work day of the week. Thirty years of slapping glass in cars has given me far too many opportunities to be fallible.
It was on a Friday in the mid-80s when I encountered my very first Taurus windshield that had the lower recessed urethane band that I was ill-equipped to cut. The car had come over on a dealer trade as it was sold and had caught a rock. Since the model had just been introduced, there were few replacement parts available in the supply chain, I had to drive a considerable distance to pick one up. I arrived on the job past 3 p.m. to start. I just remember getting the cowl off and the sides and top cut only to encounter the bottom. I never liked a banana knife and used wire to reach places I couldn’t access. However on this day, I had used my last coil in the morning. Suffice it to say, such a mess was made that still defies description. I went out the next Monday and ordered a new electric tool on the market from a company called Equalizer. They also had a large spatula-shaped tool called “The Persuader” that rivaled in width and certainly in weight the blades in use today. However, a hammer had to be used in lieu of any other motivating force. I bought that as well since I wanted back-up at a lower price.
It was also on a Friday when I was called to switch out two Ford Fairmont windshields for a used car manager. The glasses were butyl-set, so removal was easy and unremarkable. What was remarkable was the fact that in mid-June in Northern California, the chance for rain actually existed on that day. Who believes weather professionals, though? The Ford dealership was packed with cars and little cover existed in the first place. Since I had two cars and my work truck, finding the space I needed was hard enough. I admit the skies were cloudy when I first started the job, but since it never rains here in summer, I had no real concerns. I think I was applying primer when the first drops hit me. A massive (for California at least) cloudburst began to commence within a minute after that and I distinctly remember frantically looking around for any cover that I could park these two cars under. Let’s just say that dry times were significantly increased for that job.
I’ve had a dog tip over my glass stand with its owner’s new windshield atop on a Friday. I once went through three DW685s trying to get one not to crack during install on a Friday. I’ve run out of gas and urethane midday on a Friday.
Are you a pack rat? I certainly can claim that title. It’s not so much that I collect things. I tend to leave tools at jobsites as a sort of a remembrance of my being there. My body shops techs have appreciated my generosity and over time could have started mobile glass services with my temporary donations. At some places, the guys have actually collected boxes of the tools I’ve left behind. I once arrived at a job about 10 miles away and discovered I had left all five of my cutout knives next to a vehicle on which I had just completed a backglass R&R. I had to go back and retrieve them before I could resume work. Oh, by the way, that was on a Friday.
What is perhaps the worst inconvenience any tech can endure is having the wrong glass for a job. Now any corporate tech can blame their CSR or someone else at times, but we, the lone wolves of the industry alone bear the brunt of our own errors. Today, with cell phones equipped with blue tooth ear pieces, you can make bids and operate fairly efficiently while not having to stop production. Yet customers still think right is left and the passenger rear describes someone’s posterior.
I would like to think that the days of asking the correct questions and recording the appropriate answers have arrived and one can depend upon the lengthy time of experience to minimize mistakes. Au contraire, mon ami. You are dead wrong. Infallibility may be a papal quality but not for this alleged veteran. Just recently I had a customer text me his VIN # on his BMW 325 so I could correctly order an OE moulding and cowl. I arrive at his house, removed the broken lite, installed a new moulding on glass, performed all necessary AGRSS procedures, and began the installation.
I happened to notice as I was lowering glass into hole that the upper-middle of glass was nowhere close to roofline. That fact was confirmed as both upper corners made contact with vehicle. As I reversed directions while my customer viewed this operation, I looked and finally counted doors on his car. It was a two-door coupe and not the four-door I thought he owned. I had indeed tried to install the wrong glass and realized that I had never asked him and the dealership never mentioned the model to me. Needless to say, I never actually confirmed upon arrival that I had ordered the correct glass. I had to first clean up any urethane that had hit the pinchweld, pack up my tools and head to my distributor to pick up the correct windshield. It was the start of the afternoon commute and what would normally take me 30 minutes to traverse would take twice that long. Just in case you were wondering, that was last Friday—no surprise for me.
Abigail Van Buren of “Dear Abby” fame once wrote: “If we could sell our experiences for what they cost us, we’d all be millionaires.” I certainly would not try it on a Friday.
