After giving in to the sirene song of a particular group of aliens in Sanford, and then driving my Jeep for a few months, the idiot light, a gently annoying orange thing right in normal line of sight, yelled at me. It was time for the dreaded Service.

Under normal circumstances I would have taken her to the dealership where I found her. However, I’ve moved and that particular location is 150 miles (one bag of snacks, two unsweet teas, forty country songs and at least one restroom stop) away from the new residence. Add to that, I was working in Marathon, Florida where there are no Jeep dealerships and local garages want the price of a schooner to get their hands dirty, and only coming home sporadically. A simple oil change became monumental.


I made an appointment at a dealership near home, at a time when I’d actually be home, hoping to make the Jeep happy and healthy. This Jeep dealer is located on US Hwy 1 in Stuart, Florida.

My honey and I showed up at the appointed time with the idea of walking across the street for a late lunch while the wrenches were turned and fluids were transferred. I pulled right up to the Service Department, directly in front of two people, ostensibly service reps. One of them was on the phone when we pulled up. The other one had her head down, and picked up the phone and dialed after we arrived.

What followed was minutes of invisibility on our part. At first, we sat patiently in the car, checking every few seconds for some signs that we had been noticed. Our invisibility cloak worked perfectly. We were not acknowledged at all. At 10 minutes after our appointment time, I got out of the car and walked toward the nearest desk, toward the one who was on the phone when we arrived. Without any eye contact, he pointed his finger toward the other rep.

At this point, I must admit that the hair on the back of my neck started to bristle. But, with a smile, I obeyed directions. She now had her attention on a log book and continued to ignore me until I penetrated her personal bubble. At that point, she looked up and stared at me blankly. By this time, I could faintly feel my pulse quicken. I still smiled, though.

After another minute or so, I finally said, I’m TJ Flynn with a 2 o’clock appointment. To which she responded, “for what”? I replied, “for service of this Jeep”. Now, my blood was pumping fast, and it was hot. However, I still smiled while she started getting information from the vehicle. During this exercise, I asked, “how long will this take and what will it cost?” When she replied that how long it takes depends on how busy the techs are, I decided that I’d rather burn the money and have dental surgery than stay. Honey agreed and we left.

A few days later, while in Orlando for other business, we had the service done at Fields. Holy smoke…what a difference. We were not ignored for a second. We were, greeted by a smiling face. We were treated with deference and consideration. We were told exactly how long it would take for the work and offered the hospitality of free food and drink. For heavens sake, our dog was even welcomed!

We can’t be the only people unhappy with the Wallace Jeep Service Department. The entire Wallace Jeep organization in Stuart should go to Fields Jeep in Sanford for training.

Fields Jeep in Sanford knows what good service is.