This section has nothing to do with customers.
This is much more dangerous.
This is about the text every HVAC technician has sent at least once:
“Leaving soon.”
And the response:
“What time will you be home?”
Do not answer this question casually.
Everything we just discussed about customer time estimates applies here—
except the consequences are potentially greater.
You know what you mean.
You are on the last call.
The repair is basically finished.
You only need to:
Test the system.
Take readings.
Talk to the customer.
Clean up.
Finish paperwork.
Load the truck.
Find the screwdriver you lost.
Drive 35 minutes home.
Possibly stop for fuel.
So you send:
“Leaving soon.”
Your spouse reads:
“He will be pulling into the driveway shortly.”
These are not the same thing.
You are standing beside the condenser.
The customer has approved the repair.
You install the part.
Everything looks great.
Your spouse texts:
“ETA?”
You look at Google Maps.
Home is 27 minutes away.
You reply:
“About 30 minutes.”
Wrong.
You forgot:
The system still needs to run.
The drain needs to be checked.
The customer wants to ask about replacing the system next year.
Housecall Pro needs to be completed.
Your gauges need to be put away.
Your extension cord has somehow tied itself around the condenser.
The customer would like to tell you about the HVAC company they used in 2003.
And the moment you finally sit in the truck, Interstate 95 turns red.
You arrive home 72 minutes later.
Now you’re not simply late.
You lied.
You didn’t mean to lie.
But that’s not especially helpful.
We established this in the previous section.
They hear:
“This should be quick.”
They hear:
“Twenty minutes tops.”
They especially hear:
“I’ll be home by six.”
Do not tempt them.
The moment you announce an exact arrival time, a compressor somewhere in Flagler County senses weakness.
Technically true.
Practically useless.
There are last calls.
And there are last calls.
A last call can be:
Clogged drain.
Fifteen minutes.
Home.
Or:
“System isn’t cooling.”
Customer says three companies have already been there.
Thermostat was replaced yesterday.
Outdoor unit is running.
Indoor unit isn’t.
Breaker isn’t tripped.
Float isn’t tripped.
There is a handwritten wiring diagram taped to the air handler.
The customer opens with:
“Nobody can figure this thing out.”
You are no longer coming home at 5:30.
Accept it.
This should probably be federal law for HVAC technicians.
If the system is still apart:
You do not have an ETA.
If the refrigerant circuit is still open:
You definitely do not have an ETA.
If the blower is sitting on the garage floor:
No.
If you are standing in the attic holding wire nuts in your teeth:
No.
If you have just said:
“That’s weird.”
Absolutely not.
Finish the critical work first.
Then reassess your life.
Use this carefully.
Wrapping up should mean:
The repair is completed.
The system has been tested.
The customer has been updated.
You are doing paperwork, cleaning up, or loading tools.
It should not mean:
“I have reached the point in the job where I would really like to be wrapping up.”
Those are different conditions.
This one is simple.
Do not send:
“On my way.”
while standing in the customer’s kitchen.
Do not send it while writing the invoice.
Do not send it while putting gauges away.
Do not send it while sitting in the truck doing Housecall Pro.
Do not send it while still wondering where your meter is.
On my way means the vehicle is physically traveling toward home.
We need standards.
There is an important exception.
You may genuinely be on your way home and realize the truck has seven miles of range remaining.
Now you have to stop.
Fine.
But understand that:
“On my way.”
followed by a 17-minute disappearance at Wawa creates suspicion.
Especially if food is involved.
Communication remains important.
This is advanced material.
You have told your spouse:
“I’m 20 minutes away.”
Then you remember:
You need PVC fittings for tomorrow.
Home Depot is right there.
This will only take five minutes.
You already know where this is going.
The fitting you need is not in the bin.
The app says there are 37.
There are zero.
You ask an employee.
The employee asks another employee.
Someone eventually produces a ladder.
You begin questioning whether you really need the fitting.
Forty-two minutes later, you leave with:
One fitting.
A flashlight.
Batteries.
And something that was on clearance.
Meanwhile:
Dinner has achieved room temperature.
Go home.
Tomorrow has stores too.
Never calculate your home arrival time while standing at a parts counter.
You may believe you are:
“Just grabbing one thing.”
This has no bearing on reality.
There are four contractors ahead of you.
One is ordering an entire commercial system verbally.
One does not know his model number.
One would like to discuss college football.
The computer stopped working.
The part exists.
Then it doesn’t.
Then someone finds it in another warehouse.
Do not make promises from inside a supply house.
This is the serious part underneath the joke.
When somebody asks:
“What time will you be home?”
they may actually need to know.
Dinner.
Kids.
Church.
Appointments.
Plans.
Errands.
Something they need help with.
They’re not necessarily demanding that HVAC obey a clock.
They’re trying to organize their evening.
So give them useful information.
Not false precision.
“I’m on the last call. I don’t know how long it’ll take yet, but I’ll update you when I’m actually wrapping up.”
Good.
Later:
“System is running. I’m cleaning up now. I’ll text you when I leave.”
Even better.
Then:
“Leaving now. GPS says 34 minutes.”
Now you actually have information.
The same principle from Section 33 applies.
Give updates, not promises.
Your spouse would probably rather receive:
“This call got more complicated. I’m still here.”
than spend an hour watching your original arrival time slowly become fiction.
Don’t disappear.
Communicate.
You said you’d probably be home around six.
It is now 7:15.
No text.
No call.
Nothing.
This creates unnecessary worry.
You don’t need to provide a complete diagnostic report.
A simple:
“Still on the same job. Everything’s okay. It’s taking longer than expected.”
takes approximately twelve seconds.
Send it.
You’re about to leave.
The customer says:
“Hey, before you go…”
This sentence has ended countless arrival-time estimates.
Maybe it’s a 30-second question.
Maybe they want you to look at the upstairs system.
Maybe they want an installation estimate.
Maybe they heard a noise in March and would like to recreate it vocally.
You don’t know.
Therefore:
Do not announce departure until departure is actually happening.
This is where technicians fool themselves.
The physical job is done.
So mentally:
I’m done.
No.
You still have to document the call.
Upload photos.
Finish the invoice.
Write notes.
Process payment.
Communicate follow-up needs.
Maybe build an estimate.
If you have 20 minutes of paperwork remaining, you are not 20 minutes from home unless your house is physically attached to the customer’s driveway.
You finally leave.
But you pull into the nearest parking lot because you need to finish paperwork before driving.
That’s fine.
But remember:
You are not homeward bound yet.
Your spouse sees your location stopped at Publix for 23 minutes and begins constructing theories.
Preferably send:
“Finished the job. Doing paperwork for a few minutes, then heading home.”
Mystery solved.
Technicians are eternal optimists when they want to go home.
“If everything goes perfectly…”
Stop.
Everything is not going perfectly.
If everything were going perfectly, you wouldn’t work in HVAC.
Give yourself room.
And if you arrive earlier than expected?
Look at you.
Hero.
Much better than revising the ETA four times.
There is no such thing as:
“A quick 5:00 service call.”
There is only:
A service call that begins at 5:00.
Its duration remains unknown.
Do not text:
“Just one quick call, then home.”
You have challenged the gods twice in a single sentence.
Friday.
4:37 PM.
One last no-cool.
Customer says:
“Probably just the thermostat.”
Delete any arrival estimate you were about to send.
You are entering sacred territory.
This is where compressors stop.
Drain lines disappear into walls.
Low-voltage shorts reveal themselves only when no one is looking.
Replacement parts cease to exist within a 60-mile radius.
And thermostats that were:
“Just replaced by my neighbor.”
enter the conversation.
Tell your spouse you love them.
More information will follow.
Do not promise a specific home arrival time on an installation day.
Please.
An installation is a collection of variables held together with nitrogen and optimism.
Everything can go perfectly and still take all day.
Or:
Attic access is worse than expected.
The old unit doesn’t fit through the opening.
The lineset has a problem.
The drain is clogged.
The electrical needs work.
The plenum requires more repair.
The vacuum takes longer.
Commissioning finds something.
The customer has questions.
None of this means the installation went badly.
It means installations take what they take.
Your spouse deserves better than:
“Definitely home by four.”
at 7:06.
If there is something you must be home for, communicate that before the day gets away from you.
Tell the office.
Plan the schedule.
Tell the other technicians.
Don’t wait until you’re 90 minutes away from home with an air handler halfway installed and announce:
“I have to leave in 20 minutes.”
Planning matters.
Sometimes work genuinely runs long.
But known commitments should not become emergencies because nobody mentioned them.
There will be days where something happens.
A job goes sideways.
A customer has an actual emergency.
A vehicle problem occurs.
Someone on the team needs help.
Life happens.
Communicate.
The expectation isn’t that every evening runs according to schedule.
The expectation is that people who are waiting on you aren’t left wondering what happened.
New technicians often make the mistake of believing:
Finished repair = leaving job.
Experienced technicians know:
Finished repair
= leaving job.
Teach this early.
It may save a marriage.
Almost nothing in HVAC is five minutes.
If you are genuinely five minutes from home and physically driving there:
Fine.
Otherwise:
Don’t.
“Five minutes.”
is how you end up crawling underneath a house while somebody at home watches the clock.
Soon is emotionally interpreted.
There is no official measurement.
Your soon may be:
45 minutes.
Their soon may be:
Use better information.
“I’m finishing up.”
“I’m doing paperwork.”
“I’m leaving the customer’s house now.”
“GPS says 32 minutes.”
These communicate actual status.
Once you’re actually driving home, something magical happens.
We finally possess data.
Google Maps.
Apple Maps.
Whatever you use.
Now you can say:
“GPS says 38 minutes.”
If traffic changes, the GPS gets blamed.
Perfect.
We have successfully transferred responsibility to a multinational technology corporation.
Important.
You said 38 minutes.
GPS changes to 42.
This is not a challenge.
Do not attempt to recover the four minutes.
You are not qualifying at Daytona.
Drive normally.
Arrive alive.
Dinner can survive four more minutes.
Do not immediately begin with:
“You would not believe the day I had.”
Perhaps first:
Hello.
Maybe hug someone.
Put your stuff down.
Acknowledge the family who has also experienced an entire day while you were rescuing air conditioners.
Then tell them about the compressor.
Sometimes a difficult call follows you.
You’re thinking about the readings.
Something didn’t make sense.
You’re wondering whether you missed something.
That’s normal.
But remember where you are.
Write down what you need to remember.
Follow up tomorrow if necessary.
Then be home.
The company needs good technicians.
Your family needs you.
Those are not competing responsibilities when we manage them well.
Do not predict the unpredictable.
Do not text “20 minutes” while the system is still apart.
Do not say “on my way” while standing in the customer’s kitchen.
Do not say “wrapping up” because you’re emotionally ready to wrap up.
Do not go silent when a job runs late.
Give updates.
Communicate changes.
When the work is actually completed, say so.
When you’re actually leaving, say so.
Then use the GPS estimate.
And remember:
The HVAC gods monitor customer estimates.
But when you tell your spouse:
“I’ll definitely be home by six.”
they take it personally.
Proceed accordingly.