$99 gets a technician with a meter to the machine, and the guess becomes a reading.
Monday–Friday 7:30–5:30 · Saturday 8–1 · closed Sunday
Figure one is $99, identical whether the truck stops on Holly St or out past Wilder. It covers the technician, the drive and an actual reading — clamp meter on the compressor, thermometer on the shelf, ohmmeter across the element, manometer on a propane line — in place of a guess made over the phone. Figure two arrives once the failed part has a name, usually within minutes: what putting it right costs, written on the ticket with that $99 sitting inside. You read the ticket and decide. There is no later money conversation; the invoice does not swell at the end, and nobody has a clock running.
The part. A drain pump, a door switch, a defrost heater or a sealed-system compressor — four parts, and four very different afternoons. Most calls narrow to one predictable part; when the fault could land on either of two parts, you hear so before approving anything.
The installation. A stacked pair inside a Kuna laundry closet, a dishwasher hard-piped beneath a granite counter in North Nampa, a range on a propane line in Melba, a refrigerator boxed into the cabinetry of a downtown remodel — each takes longer to open up and close back properly. That time is built into the figure; there is no surcharge for it.
What never moves it. The weather, the river, a gate code, a Saturday, a return trip, distance. If the machine is not worth saving you hear it at the door — the visit is the $99, advice included.
It disappears into the repair figure: one total on the invoice, no separate diagnostic line. The $99 only stands by itself if you turn the repair down — then that is the entire visit, and the written diagnosis goes with you.
Small job or big job, that much dispatch can guess at from a description. A figure, no. A washer that refuses to drain might be a pump packed with sand, a pump that has died, or a board that dropped the pump relay — three separate repairs behind one symptom. The meter goes on first; the pen comes out after.
Not at all. Anywhere within about thirty minutes of Davis Ave the invoice carries nothing for distance, the bridge over the Snake, a gate, gravel or a Saturday morning.
It is not. Once the part lands we come back on our own calendar and close the job at the figure you signed off on.
No. The diagnostic is one price, the repair is one written figure, and both are identical at every address on the route. Neither moves with the date, the ZIP code or the name on the door.
After a complete cycle has run while you watch. Card, check or cash — any of the three. An owner or manager who is not there settles from the emailed invoice.
The phone is quicker; the form lands on the same desk. Both get you a text with a window, and until a technician has had a meter on the machine the only figure anyone quotes is $99.
Open the request form$99 puts a meter on the machine. The repair goes on the ticket as one figure with that $99 inside it, the part is usually riding in the truck, and the invoice states the warranty term. Parma pays what Davis Ave pays.