BEWARE OF SCOTTS LAWN SERVICE SCAM!!!
HIGH PRESSURE SALES, POOR SERVICE AND BROKEN PROMISES!! READ MORE BELOW:
MY EXPERIENCE WITH THE SCOTTS LAWN SERVICE RIP-OFF TEAM:
You get this pretty advertising postcard in the mail that shows photos of beautiful lawns and contains language such as:
"Give yourself the lawn you've always dreamed of..."
"Thick green grass you can enjoy all season."
"Count on expert care for your lawn - You can be sure our trained field staff will treat your lawn with the right products at the right time."
And then the guarantee:
So, I sent in the card. A week later a Scotts Representative called me from Denver to sign me up to the program. I told them the yard looked good, but we had this one little problem area and that if they wanted to send someone out to check it before we began, let's do it. The rep said sure, it was guaranteed and that if I ever didn't like it they would come back at no charge.
Okay, let's do it. The local "technician" comes out and treats the yard. And things start dying. And the yard looks worse. So I call the local office in Pflugerville, Texas, and get a guy name "Trey" who sets an appointment for the next day at 1:00 p.m. I wait around all afternoon. He never does show up or call. My yard continues to look worse.
Then they start sending bills. I don't pay. I write on the bill and send it in, stating I'm not satisfied. They call me back and try to sell me all sorts of other services like aeration, and such. I tell them my yard used to look beautiful, but now it's dying and to stop the treatments. But rather than stop, or even send a guy out to examine the problem, they quickly send out a technician who accelerates the treatments, doing two treatments simultaneously. Now they say I owe them for three treatments. The yard continues to worsen. It starts to discolor and die.
Then I noticed that I had developed a huge fire ant problem. Evidently the fire ants love the treatments. I would not be surprised if they seeded the yard with ants so they could sell me treatments to control them later on.
Next, the computerized bill collector starts hounding me. I call in again and finally get this Trey character who sets another appointment. He shows up with a young guy who Trey says is "The Boss," a young whippersnapper who spent the entire time on his cell phone. "I have good news," Trey says. "He's the one who can help you." I watched as the kid checked his pants to make sure no grass had gotten on his pressed khaki cuffs. I doubted the kid had ever sprayed a lawn in his life.
We walk the yard and I explain that the yard looked better before the treatments, that areas of the yard that were dying and brown were green before the treatments. Trey launches into his line of bullshit a mile wide, blames it on the drought. I told him we had no drought problem, we had good rain and watered occasionally. I pointed to my neighbors yard that was green and lush. "Oak trees," Trey says. "This always happens around an oak tree." Again, I point to my neighbor's yard - green and lush around his little oak tree. Around my little oak tree it's all dead and brown.
Trey then says my yard has root rot which has a four-year cycle. "How long have you lived in the house?" he asked. "Two years," I replied. "Then you're halfway through the cycle. It has two more years to go." I then tried to explain that wasn't possible because for a year and a half the yard looked great. Trey skipped ahead, "It's not a good idea to use nitrates on the yard because nitrates only make it worse, the rot feeds on the nitrates." Then he caught himself when he realized his technician had put nitrates on my yard, thus exacerbating the problem.
Trey then twitches and makes a little half-step like Bo Jangles, glances at his boss with a look that said to me: "Don't worry, I can handle this sucker like all the others." It was then I realized the mannerisms of a snake oil salesman or a Traveler. I told them I wasn't going to pay them for fucking up my yard. That got the attention of the Whippersnapper who cupped his hand over his cell phone long enough to tell me: "Yes you are!"
Trey snickered, like he had me. Like I was on the hook for three payments and I wasn't getting off. Like he all too well knew the Gestapo tactics employed by his collections department. "You know how these companies work," Trey said with a conspiratorial look.
"Come on with it." I had enough. "This meeting is over," I said. And walked into house. Thus, the moral of this story is:
You get this pretty advertising postcard in the mail that shows photos of beautiful lawns and contains language such as:
"Give yourself the lawn you've always dreamed of..."
"Thick green grass you can enjoy all season."
"Count on expert care for your lawn - You can be sure our trained field staff will treat your lawn with the right products at the right time."
And then the guarantee:
So, I sent in the card. A week later a Scotts Representative called me from Denver to sign me up to the program. I told them the yard looked good, but we had this one little problem area and that if they wanted to send someone out to check it before we began, let's do it. The rep said sure, it was guaranteed and that if I ever didn't like it they would come back at no charge.
Okay, let's do it. The local "technician" comes out and treats the yard. And things start dying. And the yard looks worse. So I call the local office in Pflugerville, Texas, and get a guy name "Trey" who sets an appointment for the next day at 1:00 p.m. I wait around all afternoon. He never does show up or call. My yard continues to look worse.
Then they start sending bills. I don't pay. I write on the bill and send it in, stating I'm not satisfied. They call me back and try to sell me all sorts of other services like aeration, and such. I tell them my yard used to look beautiful, but now it's dying and to stop the treatments. But rather than stop, or even send a guy out to examine the problem, they quickly send out a technician who accelerates the treatments, doing two treatments simultaneously. Now they say I owe them for three treatments. The yard continues to worsen. It starts to discolor and die.
Then I noticed that I had developed a huge fire ant problem. Evidently the fire ants love the treatments. I would not be surprised if they seeded the yard with ants so they could sell me treatments to control them later on.
Next, the computerized bill collector starts hounding me. I call in again and finally get this Trey character who sets another appointment. He shows up with a young guy who Trey says is "The Boss," a young whippersnapper who spent the entire time on his cell phone. "I have good news," Trey says. "He's the one who can help you." I watched as the kid checked his pants to make sure no grass had gotten on his pressed khaki cuffs. I doubted the kid had ever sprayed a lawn in his life.
We walk the yard and I explain that the yard looked better before the treatments, that areas of the yard that were dying and brown were green before the treatments. Trey launches into his line of bullshit a mile wide, blames it on the drought. I told him we had no drought problem, we had good rain and watered occasionally. I pointed to my neighbors yard that was green and lush. "Oak trees," Trey says. "This always happens around an oak tree." Again, I point to my neighbor's yard - green and lush around his little oak tree. Around my little oak tree it's all dead and brown.
Trey then says my yard has root rot which has a four-year cycle. "How long have you lived in the house?" he asked. "Two years," I replied. "Then you're halfway through the cycle. It has two more years to go." I then tried to explain that wasn't possible because for a year and a half the yard looked great. Trey skipped ahead, "It's not a good idea to use nitrates on the yard because nitrates only make it worse, the rot feeds on the nitrates." Then he caught himself when he realized his technician had put nitrates on my yard, thus exacerbating the problem.
Trey then twitches and makes a little half-step like Bo Jangles, glances at his boss with a look that said to me: "Don't worry, I can handle this sucker like all the others." It was then I realized the mannerisms of a snake oil salesman or a Traveler. I told them I wasn't going to pay them for fucking up my yard. That got the attention of the Whippersnapper who cupped his hand over his cell phone long enough to tell me: "Yes you are!"
Trey snickered, like he had me. Like I was on the hook for three payments and I wasn't getting off. Like he all too well knew the Gestapo tactics employed by his collections department. "You know how these companies work," Trey said with a conspiratorial look.
"Come on with it." I had enough. "This meeting is over," I said. And walked into house. Thus, the moral of this story is:
DO NOT TRUST THESE BOZOS FROM SCOTTS LAWN SERVICE. THEY COULD CARE LESS ABOUT YOUR LAWN. THEY JUST WANT YOUR MONEY!!!!
