It’s an old story. A customer brings in a rebuild job and you do your normal quality job. You dot all the I’s and cross all the T’s and walk away from the engine stand knowing you’ve done a good job. The customer pays and off he goes with his prize. You make the mortgage payment and the world keeps turning around and around.
Then, shortly after this idyllic story, the fecal matter hits the reciprocating air delivery device when (to your surprise) the customer returns, screaming about how your work was shoddy and defective. He now claims he has a load of expensive scrap, it’s all your fault, he wants his money back, he wants to be paid for R&R, he wants punitive damages for mental distress, and his lawyer thinks he can get a substantial judgment for pain and suffering (endured by his pet schnauzer when, because of your inept bumbling, it was late to its pet therapist appointment). Before it’s all over, you’ve been accused of everything from child abuse to global warming.
Now, it is always possible – however remotely – that somewhere along the line you did, in fact, make a mistake. One of the unfortunate attributes of being a human being is a disconcerting tendency toward imperfection. We try hard, we do it all by the numbers, and then because a phone rings or someone is standing in the shop chewing our ears we forget to torque that ONE bolt or flip a ring or