Learn the whole shop, two minutes at a time.

New software usually means a lost weekend. Sign up at lunch, quote and book before dinner.

You sign up, you name your shop — that's the whole form.

You pick the plan you want to try, and nothing is charged for 14 days.

Then a few quick questions — how many bays, how many installers, what you offer.

Answer what you can, skip the rest. It builds your bays and your crew from this.

Then it drops you on AI setup.

Give it your website, pick how deep it reads — Standard for me — and hit Build my setup.

Now it reads your site — your hours, your contact details, even your brand colour straight out of the CSS.

Three stages. Pour a coffee.

Nothing saves until you say so.

It walks you through one idea at a time — your business, your brand, your hours, your voice.

Then services. And this is the bit that matters: it doesn't make your prices up.

You point it at your own price list — a page, a photo of the menu, or your invoice history.

Anything it had to estimate is flagged in amber. Fix those, add them, done.

Last step: which agents to switch on, and booking.

Apply, and it tells you exactly what landed.

Here's the catalog — my list, my prices.

Open one and every vehicle price is right there. Quotes, invoices and bookings all read from this.

Getting started tracks all of it — mine's mostly green already.

Booking live, catalog priced, brand on everything. Signed up at lunch, live before dinner.

Next: build a quote with the margin showing while you type.

Mike Reeves just pulled in with a 2025 Tacoma asking what full front costs. Build it while he's still on the lot.

Old me would've said “I'll email you something tonight.”

New me builds it while he's still in the lot. Quotes → New quote.

Title it, pick Mike as the customer.

A walk-in with no file yet? Quick add — name, phone, done.

Type the VIN — or snap the door-jamb sticker with Scan — and hit Decode.

There it is: 2025 Toyota Tacoma.

Add vehicle, and the price tier flips to truck on its own.

Under Included work, search the catalog.

Full Front PPF fills itself in — description, photo, and the truck price. Twenty-four fifty.

Now the film. Search XPEL and the roll comes in as a line tracked by the foot.

Twenty-two feet for a Tacoma front end, at my real cost per foot — not a guess.

Now watch the right rail. It said “Add item costs to see margin” — so let's feed it.

Film cost lands, then Danny's labour in the Cost box…

…and the number moves as I type. Seventy-seven percent. Healthy margin.

I know what I'm making before Mike knows the price.

Happy with it? Save draft quote.

From the quote page, hit Send quote to customer. Tick Text, hit Send.

Mike's phone buzzes before he's back in the driver's seat.

Twenty-four fifty, photos, and one tap to approve — and you knew your margin before he knew the price.

Both hands in film, squeegee halfway down a hood, and the shop phone rings. You're not answering that — and you shouldn't have to.

Every call on the shop number lands on the Calls page.

There's Mike Reeves — Inbound, Missed. Nobody picked up.

That used to mean he's already dialling the shop down the street.

But the Missed-Call Responder is on.

The second a call goes unanswered, it texts the caller back from the shop's own number.

Set it up once, forget it exists.

Over in the Inbox it's all one thread.

The missed call. The text-back — see the little AI tag? That one sent itself.

And Mike's reply: he wants PPF on his new Tacoma.

The lead got saved while my hands were still in film.

Now I tap AI draft and hit “Invite them to book a consult.”

It writes the reply in my shop's voice, booking link and all.

The footer says edit before sending — so read it, tweak a word, hit send.

Ten seconds, and I'm back on the hood.

Mike taps the link from his truck. Picks full front PPF, grabs Thursday morning.

Pays the deposit to lock it in. No phone tag. I never even called him back.

And there it is on the Calendar.

Mike Reeves, Thursday, full front on the Tacoma — deposit already in the bank.

That's a twenty-four-fifty job.

And you never put down the squeegee. Turn the Missed-Call Responder on before your next busy Saturday.

That $2,450 quote we texted Mike? Three days, no reply. Jobs like that used to die quietly.

This is AI Agents — my night crew.

Lead Responder, Quote Follow-up, Invoice Chaser — each card covers a job I kept dropping.

And up top: 1 awaiting approval.

Up top: Your shop voice. One plain box — how we talk, what to mention, what to skip.

Every agent writes like Apex, not like a robot. Done once, applies everywhere.

Tap Quote Follow-up. It fires when a sent quote goes quiet — I wait three days.

And here's the switch that matters: Off, Draft first, Autopilot.

Mine sits on Draft first — it writes the text, but nothing reaches a customer without my thumb.

New agents even start there.

Below, Recent runs — every time it fired: sent, drafted, or skipped, with the reason. No black box.

Back on the agents page — Approvals.

Overnight, Quote Follow-up drafted a nudge for Mike. Friendly, my voice, mentions the Tacoma.

It's a plain text box, so I tweak a word right there.

Then Approve and send. Ten seconds, one thumb, from the bay.

It re-checks opt-outs and send windows at send time, so it never texts anyone at two a.m.

Want receipts? Hit Execution log.

Every run, newest first — Did work, No action, Skipped, Failed — filterable by agent.

Twenty minutes later, Mike texts back: book it.

A twenty-four-fifty job that was going cold, saved by a follow-up I approved between panels.

Draft first is the default for a reason — read it, tweak it, send it. Or don't.

Mike found us at eleven at night. Shop closed, phones off. He still booked — and paid to hold the spot.

Settings, Online booking. Your public storefront — where customers book and pay a deposit, 24/7.

One button — Turn on without setup — and the badge flips to Live.

Your booking page is on the internet.

Now the Deposit card. Flip Require a deposit to book.

I run twenty percent with a fifty-dollar minimum, whichever's greater.

Tire kickers hate deposits. Real customers don't blink.

Availability is two knobs. Lead time — I keep twenty-four hours, so nobody grabs tomorrow's eight a.m. at midnight.

Booking horizon — how far out they can book.

The slots themselves come from your real bays and calendar, so you can't get double-booked.

Here's Mike's side, on his phone. Your shop, booking open twenty-four-seven.

He picks Truck, then the Full Front PPF package — twenty-four fifty on his Tacoma.

He picks a date and a time. Only genuinely open slots show. Then his name and cell.

The review screen says it plain: total, twenty-four fifty. Due today, four hundred ninety.

One button — Confirm and pay the deposit.

He pays on a secure checkout and gets Deposit received.

His slot is locked, his card is charged, and I slept through all of it.

Next morning it's just sitting on my calendar — with four hundred and ninety bucks already collected.

Storefront on, deposit set, availability from your real bays. Nothing else to do.

No paper traveler. No stack of “what am I on next?” texts. One screen called Today.

Here's Danny's day one. One screen called Today.

His jobs. Nothing else.

First tap of the morning: Clock in. The timer starts ticking right on the card.

No punch clock on the wall, no honour-system notebook.

Under Your jobs sits the Tacoma — full front for Mike Reeves, booked into Bay 1. Danny taps it.

Top of the job: the stage stepper.

He taps a step as he works, and my board back at the desk moves with him.

Work items is his checklist. Every item gets a stopwatch — Start, Stop, Complete — with a target time on it.

He knows if he's ahead or behind. So do I.

Photos come straight off the phone camera: Before, After, Defects, Panels — and a VIN tile that reads the plate.

Rock chip at intake? It's on file before anybody can argue.

Danny sees his own flat rate on the job — never your pricing, never another installer's pay.

And customer texts? Pre-approved only.

You write the canned messages once under Settings → Installer app — free text is off-limits on the worker app.

The Schedule tab shows his next seven days, slot by slot.

That kills the Sunday-night “what's my week?” text.

And Pay: today's number, ticking live while he's on the clock, plus every flat-rate line as items get done.

An installer who watches his own number move works different.

Danny taps Ready, sends the pickup text, clocks out — and not one piece of paper touched that bay.

Reviews are how the next truck finds your shop. But after a day on the film, nobody's sitting down to chase Google.

Everything reputation lives on one page: Inbox, Posts, Insights, Settings.

It starts when a job closes. The Review Requester texts my Google review link after every finished install.

I set Wait after completion to twenty-four hours, so it doesn't land while the customer's still driving home.

Next morning, Mike's five-star is sitting in my inbox — flagged New, matched to his customer file, lifetime value on the card.

And a reply is already waiting. The panel says “AI draft — review before it goes live.”

It sounds like me, it mentions the Tacoma.

I read it, tap Approve and post — and it's live on my Google listing.

The Needs approval chip holds everything queued up. I clear it twice a week — two minutes, coffee in hand.

The rules live on the Review Responder. I run “Everything drafts for me.”

If you trust it, “Autopilot the happy ones” posts four- and five-star replies on its own.

One- and two-stars always wait for you — it never argues with an angry customer without me.

The Posts tab publishes straight to my listing — a fresh wrap photo now and then keeps the profile alive in Search.

Insights reads it all back — what customers praise, what needs work, and the dollars your reviewers hold.

That five-star from Mike? I never asked for it and never typed the reply.

The ask sends itself. The reply drafts itself. You approve the five-stars twice a week.

The scariest part of switching is “now bring your customer list over.” That list is your whole business. Here's the import, start to finish.

Here's where I'm starting: a handful of customers I typed in by hand.

This is Data import. Pick what you're bringing — customers and vehicles — and where it's from.

Urable, Tint Wiz, OrbisX, QuickBooks, Zoho Books, or a plain spreadsheet.

Picking your platform pre-matches its column names.

Export a CSV from the old system and drop it here. That's my whole book — 214 rows detected.

Nothing's been written yet. It just read the file.

Match columns does the tedious part for you. Most fields match automatically; if one's wrong, fix it from the dropdown.

The Example column shows real data from your file, so you're never guessing which column is which.

Here's the safety rail: Review. Ready to import, flagged, skipped.

Nothing is dropped silently. Bad email? It tells you. Vehicle year that isn't a year? It tells you.

Skip anything already in Service VIN is on by default, matched by email or phone.

And read that green box: importing won't message anyone. No texts, no emails.

Your customers never know you switched.

One click. Done. 209 customers added, 187 vehicles linked, two duplicates skipped —

and it shows exactly which rows it passed on.

Grabbed the wrong file? Customer imports have a 24-hour Undo, right there under Recent imports.

And here's the win: my whole book, in Service VIN, searchable. One coffee, zero retyping.

Your whole book moved over in one coffee — and not one customer got a text about it.

Chasing money after the truck's gone is the worst part of this job. Connect Stripe once and stop doing it.

Settings, then Payments. One button — Set up payments.

Stripe walks you through connecting your bank account.

About five minutes, and you only do it once.

When Stripe's done checking, the badge flips to Active.

You'll see your processing rate here too — 2.9 percent plus thirty cents by default.

Nudge it up a few tenths if you want some margin back.

My invoice list shows exactly what's outstanding right in the header, so nothing slips through.

Here's Mike Reeves and the Tacoma — full-front PPF, twenty-five seventy-two fifty with tax.

This invoice came straight off his accepted quote.

Text, email, or both. Send.

Mike gets a link — no login, no app, no PDF to squint at.

This is Mike's side, on his phone. The full invoice, the balance due, and one button — Pay now.

He taps it, Stripe's secure checkout opens, and he pays by card right there at pickup.

The page confirms it on its own — paid in full, thank you.

I can text him a receipt from my side in two taps.

And here's mine. Paid badge, payment logged with the Stripe reference right on the invoice.

The money pays out to my bank on Stripe's rolling daily schedule.

Truck's still in the lot, and the job's already paid.

Connect Stripe once, text the invoice, and let the customer pay from their phone at pickup.

I hate dashboards. I'd rather be pulling film than reading charts. So here's the whole habit — coffee in hand.

Open Reports & Analytics. It lands on the last 90 days.

Tap the range filter, hit Seven days. Now every number on this page is just last week.

That's the only setting you touch.

Top row first. Revenue — what you sold. Gross profit — what you kept.

Cash collected — what actually landed. And Outstanding A/R — money sitting in other people's pockets.

Four numbers, thirty seconds.

Scroll to Revenue and profit by service. Ours says PPF runs a sixty-eight percent margin. Tint? Forty-two.

I'd been discounting tint to fill slow days — this chart made me stop.

Lead sources shows where jobs come from. Referrals beat Instagram two to one for us.

So I quit boosting posts and printed referral cards instead. Numbers, not gut.

One more: Quoted versus actual film cost.

If a job ate more film than you priced in, it's right there in red.

Fix the quote once — save on every job after.

If reading charts still feels like homework, open Business insights and hit Run analysis.

It reads thirty days of your quotes, jobs and calls, then tells you what to do about it.

Mark done or Dismiss — it learns.

And even on the weeks you skip all this, Monday at seven the weekly digest lands in your inbox.

Revenue won, quotes won and lost, outstanding A/R, top installer. Every line links back in.

Last Monday mine showed twelve hundred outstanding. Tapped it, re-sent the invoice, paid before lunch.

Ten lessons, and you've seen the whole system — quoting, booking, agents, deposits, the crew, reviews, importing, payments and reports.

Two fair questions about anything that texts your customers. Both have a screen now.

Open any agent and there are four tabs now.

Configure is what it does. Activity is what it did.

The two in the middle are new: what it says, and what it knows.

Here is the part nobody expects: it is already filled in.

Three questions in plain English — how should it behave, what must it never do, what should it always do.

That is the prompt. Not an empty box; the recommended one for this agent, ready to change.

Underneath: the hard lines. One rule per line, and they come back as chips so you can see it understood you.

This is where I put the thing I say to every new hire: never quote a firm price before you have seen the car.

Fold open Always on and you can read the rules no wording changes — mine included.

Built in means the software does it to the finished message, after the AI has written it.

Asked of the AI means it is an instruction. Different promises, and the screen says which is which.

Rewrite as much as you like. If it goes wrong, Reset to recommended puts the original back.

It fills the boxes first, so you read it before you commit. Nothing saves until you press Save.

Next tab: Knowledge. Six switches, and each one is a real thing it looks up before it writes.

My prices come straight off the catalog. My hours are my hours.

The star rating is the number only — it never quotes somebody's review back at a stranger.

And the thing I actually wanted: a note just for the phone agent.

Weekend drop-offs go in here. The Review Responder never sees it — it does not need to.

One button proves the whole tab: See exactly what it knows.

Those are the real lines, in the order it reads them.

It is also the fastest way I have found to catch a price in my own catalog that I never updated.

Both tabs are on the owner app too — same questions, same switches, same reset.

I have changed a never-do from a customer's driveway.

Change it, or reset it. The rules underneath stay where they are either way.