As I was decided in which bike to get, I together with couple of guys went around the metro looking for motorbike shops and checking the prices.
I particularly preferred a certain "prominent" shop on EDSA as it was near the office. Although their prices were generally higher by couple of thousand, with the convenience of having the shop nearby (for processing papers, eventual servicing, warranties, etc.) it seemed like a good deal. Well, until I actually went to the shop.
It was a generally nice place, with a large selection of bikes on display with service bays on one side. As we were looking around, I noticed that the sales agents didn't mind us being there, nor did they offer any assistance (at least at first). We didn't mind either.
When we started handling the bikes, on occasion me getting on and off to check if it "felt" right, an agent approached us asking us not to sit on the bikes and stop taking photos of me on them. Well, as I can't see how I looked on the bike, I asked a friend to take photos of me so I can see how my body proportions to the bike's size.
Okay. But how would I see if its a good fit? Not as if they had a large mirror in front of the bike.
Also, when I asked about the bike's specs, handling, features, their suggestions, etc. an agent even said that their opinion doesn't matter as I was the one who will be buying.
Huh? Some customer service you have. Humor the customer at least, ei?
That's that. Off to another shop. I can't help but wonder, maybe they have so many clients already and a few minutes with a newbie is a waste of their time. Didn't I look like a serious buyer?
I remember buying a car, the agents even had snacks prepared in an airconditioned lounge even turning the pages for you as you sign the sales agreement. Not the case here, and I wasn't buying a car.
So I guess I had to follow what everyone was suggesting, go buy in Caloocan. I hestiated at this idea as this was far from, well everywhere I go to and I was worried to ride the new bike home from an unfamiliar place. But when a friend offered to ride to bike to my house, I became eager to go...
(See Part 2: The Caloocan Experience)
OSW
--
I particularly preferred a certain "prominent" shop on EDSA as it was near the office. Although their prices were generally higher by couple of thousand, with the convenience of having the shop nearby (for processing papers, eventual servicing, warranties, etc.) it seemed like a good deal. Well, until I actually went to the shop.
It was a generally nice place, with a large selection of bikes on display with service bays on one side. As we were looking around, I noticed that the sales agents didn't mind us being there, nor did they offer any assistance (at least at first). We didn't mind either.
When we started handling the bikes, on occasion me getting on and off to check if it "felt" right, an agent approached us asking us not to sit on the bikes and stop taking photos of me on them. Well, as I can't see how I looked on the bike, I asked a friend to take photos of me so I can see how my body proportions to the bike's size.
Okay. But how would I see if its a good fit? Not as if they had a large mirror in front of the bike.
Also, when I asked about the bike's specs, handling, features, their suggestions, etc. an agent even said that their opinion doesn't matter as I was the one who will be buying.
Huh? Some customer service you have. Humor the customer at least, ei?
That's that. Off to another shop. I can't help but wonder, maybe they have so many clients already and a few minutes with a newbie is a waste of their time. Didn't I look like a serious buyer?
I remember buying a car, the agents even had snacks prepared in an airconditioned lounge even turning the pages for you as you sign the sales agreement. Not the case here, and I wasn't buying a car.
So I guess I had to follow what everyone was suggesting, go buy in Caloocan. I hestiated at this idea as this was far from, well everywhere I go to and I was worried to ride the new bike home from an unfamiliar place. But when a friend offered to ride to bike to my house, I became eager to go...
(See Part 2: The Caloocan Experience)
OSW
--
No comments:
Post a Comment