I Plead Insanity

Is it true that what goes around comes around? Well, not always, but sometimes things happen that just make me smile, Tee Hee...one might even say guffaw!

I saw on the news that a certain large furniture chain has filed for bankruptcy and appears to be going out of business. Halleluia. They have, by far, THE WORST service I have ever experienced with any company in my 41 years on this planet.

Seriously. I became so enraged with them after a purchase I made, that temporary insanity reigned over my normally good sense of judgement. I even lost all sense of my own well being.

All I wanted was loft beds with the desks and book cases underneath for my kids’ rooms. Is this asking so much? This store had the only design that I liked. I bought two and they were to be delivered and assembled in three days.

On delivery day, one went together easy as pie, but they couldn’t put the second one together because some of the parts were broken.

He showed me the broken parts. I couldn’t help but notice the red tags on the boxes that held the broken parts indicating that the parts were, well, broken and had already been returned by someone else.

They said to call customer service and explain the situation and arrange for delivery of non-broken parts and assembly. I did.

Two delivery/assemblymen came back a week later with replacement parts. Great. Only they weren’t replacements for the parts that were broken.

They said they couldn’t put the bed together and to call customer service. I did while they were still there.

The lady assured me that this would get taken care of immediately. Or next week, whichever came first. She said to make sure the delivery men took the broken parts with them. 10-4.

Next week came before immediately, and two more guys came to the house with boxes of parts. Yes! I was very excited until I saw the parts they were carrying in the house. Can you guess which parts they brought? The exact same broken ones that I had returned the previous week! Only now they had TWO bright red tags on them.

WTF. They have got to be kidding!

I told the delivery men to just take the whole frickin’ bed back. They said they couldn’t return furniture without authorization from customer service.

This isn’t furniture. It’s a pile of broken crap.

Once again I called customer service who basically said “it sucks to be you” and I would have to schedule another date to have non-broken parts delivered.

Ummmmmmmmm. No. Sorry, this is America. Hot dogs, apple pie, Chevrolet, baseball. Three strikes is all I have to give you before you’re out.

I went to the store and asked to speak to the manager. He was “too busy” to see me, so I explained the situation to my salesperson. I asked her to call customer service and arrange for a pick up and return of the entire bed.

She said she couldn’t do that, only the manager could do that, but you know, he’s too busy to see me right now, but I could wait.

I waited 30 minutes and then told her I would just go get all the boxes and return them to the store myself.

I was told I can’t return furniture at the store. I wasn’t returning furniture. I was returning boxes of broken crap.

I told her to tell the manager that he can accept my broken loft bed pieces at the back door of the store and avoid a scene OR he can pick them up off the floor at the front of his store. His choice.

I left her with my name and phone number to give to the manager so he could let me know his decision. I figured he would call and we could get this all straightened out without much more ado.

Only he didn’t call and within two hours I had seethed myself up into a frenzy. I packed the pieces of the loft bed into my van and carried them into the store one by one, dropping them right inside the front doors of the showroom.

Never make a threat if you have no intention of carrying it out.

The salesman at the door was talking to another customer and looked at me cross eyed. “May I help you?” he said.

“Yes, I’d like to know where you’d like me to put these boxes of broken crap that were delivered to my house several weeks ago. Despite multiple attempts to correct the situation, the company appears unable to do anything but deliver more broken crap to my house and since they won’t pick it up, I’m here to return it myself. I’ll just get the rest of it while you get your busy manager.” I smiled.

Well, well, it turned out that the manager wasn’t too busy to deal with this after all! He came over and politely said they don’t accept returns at the store.

Well, this is quite a pickle then, and I politely replied that I don’t accept broken crap sitting in my house for weeks on end, either.

What’s a girl to do about this? He said to call customer service.

“Tell you what, sir, you can call customer service and have them pick up this broken crap from here. I don’t have room to store this at my house and obviously, I don’t have the patience to keep having broken crap delivered to my house week after week. I’ll just unload the rest of it while you get my refund.”

I walked back to the van and continued to unload and drop off pieces inside the front door. The manager just stood there and stared and soon I had gathered a whole slew of salespeople and customers! Who knew I could be so popular? I was only missing paparazzi!

“Ma’am, (I’m sure he meant crazy lady) I can’t accept this at the store. I have no place to put it and only customer service can authorize a return and refund.”

No place to put it? This store certainly looks substantially larger than my kids’ room which is 10 feet by 10 feet, and yet, they expect me to store their broken crap for weeks on end.

He didn’t have to worry about scheduling a return for me. I had just successfully unloaded the entire bed, in pieces, right inside the front doors. I only needed a refund. That should be a snap!

He said to call customer service.

Nope. He could call customer service and I would sit on a couch by the front doors along with my boxes of broken crap. I would be more than happy to greet customers for him as they walked in the door while he was making his call.

When need be, I can be very persuasive. Within a few minutes, he had called customer service and had a complete refund for me.

I’m very glad he didn’t call the police because if I had to have paid bond money and a lawyer, I wouldn’t have been able to pay the deductible for the surgery I needed to re-repair my just recently repaired hernia. I seems I may just have torn it open by loading and unloading pieces of a broken loft bed. It’s certainly one of the possibilities, anyway.

Silly and stupid, yes. Like Belinda Carlisle, though, I have to plead insanity. They pushed me over the edge.

In case you were wondering, the name of the store rhymes with clicks, ticks and a certain slang word for male genitalia. Which, believe me, they totally were!