I declare a do-over!
Wouldn't it be nice if we could do that with life? Some days just BEG for a do-over. Yesterday was one of those days. Why, you ask. Well... grab a Coke and I'll tell you. Just be careful you don't spit it out on your keyboard because I'm not buying you a new one, m-kay? I have to give you some background first, so I'm starting with last Saturday.
You probably know by now that I FINALLY closed on my new house a few weeks ago. I've been spending every "free" moment over there getting it ready to move into. I have no idea when I'll be moving in, but dammit, I want to be ready when that day comes. The wallpaper in the rooms MUST GO, says I, so... a-stripping we went. It was a family affair, with the boys and my Mom doing a lot of the stripping. I went to work on the yucky tile backsplash behind the stove area. Brown tile is NOT my thing. Crow bar and hammer in hand, I went at it. Bit by bit, they came off. They came off with the drywall paper attached, but I was ok with that since I'm just going to replace the tile. But then, *IT* happened. A piece of tile came off with the drywall attached. ARGGHHH! I had just put a hole in my new wall. "FUCK" was the only thing my mind could say right then. I stared at the tile, and I stared at the wall, and then I kept going. The drywall behind the center of the tile was crumbling- it was a mess. My 2" hole turned into a 4" x 12" hole. "FUCK", again, was the only thing my mind could say.
Then it said "DAD!!!!!!!!!" because my Dad is pretty good with home improvements. He came over last weekend and replaced the drywall for me. Thanks Dad! He also put together the new lawn mower, which I had planned on using this past week. I pulled into the driveway last Monday night, opened the garage door, and just about fell over due to the strong smell of gasoline. *grumph* The mower has a leak, and it leaked an entire tank onto my garage floor. I filled it back up, and tried to run the mower. After a few passes, it stopped. DOA. "FUCK", again, came to mind. I never did get the sucker started again. I pushed it back into the garage, and pulled it out again yesterday morning. The gas tank had again emptied itself onto the garage floor, so I decided to take it back. But first, I had to go pee. (TMI, whatever) I clogged the toilet. While going #1. In a virtually empty house, with no plunger. "FUCK", I say to you. Fortunately, the previous owners left a toilet bowl cleaning brush (EWWWWW), so I got it un-clogged.
I was NOT thrilled with the idea of a leaking lawn mower in the back of the van, but, determined to be an independent woman, I loaded the mower into the van by myself and took off for Lowes. They happily exchanged it. Kewl! That was pretty easy. Next stop: Sears. Why? You might ask. Because the refridgerator I bought was "dropped off the truck" last weekend (I missed the delivery truck by 15 minutes last Saturday, dang it!). They couldn't order a new one because it's been upgraded to the new model, so I was told to go to ANY Sears store to pick out a new one.
ANY is capitalized for a reason. Upon arriving at my local Sears Appliance and Hardware store, I picked out a new fridge and then found a salesman to ring it up. Julie was the unlucky salesman of the day. Unlucky because she told me she wouldn't help me because I had to go back to the original store I bought it from. 45 minutes away. (I happened to be there one day, found what I liked, and bought it, thinking "why not? They're a national chain- why should I have to buy from the one closest to my house?" I now know the error of my ways.) I was NOT cordial. The tiger in me pushed to the forefront and took over. You know- the one with "don't mess with this PMS dizzy bitch" tattooed on her forehead.
"WHAT? That is NOT what customer service told me. Besides- how can I "return" an item I don't have, and never took possession of? I have NOTHING to give you to return! (I'm getting pissed. Losing my cool. It's been a "day", and this was the proverbial tip of the iceberg) Why can't you do this? Do I look like I'm dressed for shopping today? (I went out wearing my painting clothes) I am NOT in the mood for this right now."
"I can't help you because I don't want my store to take a hit for the return, and because Sears Appliance and Hardware is the step-child of the mall stores- we are not connected in any way."
"NOT CONNECTED? Doesn't the sign say "SEARS" on the front door? You just don't WANT to help me." (now I'm REALLY pissed, because I've realized she doesn't want to help me because it will be inconvenient for her to do so)
"Ma'am (drop 10 points for "ma'am"ing me), please don't yell at me. And please leave my store."
"Oh, don't worry.. I am leaving- but NOT until I talk to your manager"
"I AM the manager. The acting manager. The store manager is out of town."
"Then I hope YOUR manager knows what level of service you are giving customers in his absence!"
"Sorry Ma'am (drop 10 more points for "ma'am"ing me), but you'll have to go back to Tri-County."
"SORRY? You're SORRY? (by now I've noticed my voice echoes nicely in this store) I CHOSE Sears to buy my appliances from time and time again because of the level of service and quality of products... and THIS is how I am rewarded? Your delivery crew DROPS MY REFRIDGERATOR OFF OF THE TRUCK, it's been discontinued, so I can't get another one, and you are going to insist that I go all the way to Tri-County to pick out a new one? What kind of service is THAT!" (by now the 5 other customers in the store are well aware of my situation, having peered around the corner of the aisles to listen to the raving lunatic woman in the front of the store)
"Ma'am (dammit! She did it AGAIN!), PLEASE LEAVE THE STORE."
"I AM leaving, and I hope that EVERYONE knows how piss-poor Sears handles broken merchandise and returns!"
As I turn to exit the store, I suddenly realize that a few male employees are standing behind me, ready to assist me to my car. Ooops.
I cry.
I admit it...
I cried.
I had HAD it. A leaking lawn mower, vertigo acting up really bad, clogged toilet, holes in my drywall, wallpaper stuck to the drywall (read: the drywall paper was coming off with the wallpaper), walls that were papered over really crappy spackling jobs (read: drywall not finished), a smashed fridge, and now this. I was DONE.
*sigh*
I called customer service to make sure they knew that I could NOT go to any store, but had to go to the original store... and they again said "No- you can go anywhere". I asked them to call the Milford store and explain the situation, which they did. They came back on the line and told me that Jim would be happy to help me, should I chose to come back.
I had since decided that I didn't want that store to get my sale, so I went to the mall store closest to me. I asked for the manager. I explained what happened to the first refridgerator. He said "You have to go back to the store you bought it from."
I. Frikkin. Lost. It.
You have GOT to be kidding me, right? RIGHT!!! Well, sort of. Once he figured out that I really didn't have anything to return, that the delivery people had already processed the "return", and that all I needed to do was pick out a new model (duh), they were happy to help. The saleslady showed me the model that was replacing the one I had originally picked out. It was $50.00 more than the first one, so I told her I would take that one, IF she would sell it to me for $50.00 less. "No" was the answer. I couldn't believe it. The delivery guys drop my refridgerator off of the truck, and they won't even give me $50.00 off of the new one?
*PISSED*
I left.
Meanwhile...back at the house, another tragedy was playing itself out, unbeknownst to me.
My parents were there. Sort of. My parents came over while I was gone. Dad was going to check out the broken lawnmower, mow the lawn, and do some electrical work. He was NOT pleased. I wasn't there, and neither was the lawnmower. So he took off in the car to go find me. Only Mom was there when I got back, so she filled me in. Of course, I had no idea they were coming over at all on Sunday, but that didn't matter. Psychic daughter should have known better.
When Dad finally got back, he was still madder than hell, and I wanted to be anywhere but near him for a few hours. If he was outside.. I was in. If he was inside... I was out. He did the electrical work in the kitchen while I weeded and pruned trees. I spackled, sanded, and cleaned in the kitchen while he mowed the lawn. I finally left at 8pm, went back to Sears (Jim told me I could come to "Friends and Family Night" after 6pm and I'd get an extra 10% off of my purchase), bought the damn fridge, and went home to get goodnight kisses from the boys.
What a fucking day.
I call Do-Over.
You probably know by now that I FINALLY closed on my new house a few weeks ago. I've been spending every "free" moment over there getting it ready to move into. I have no idea when I'll be moving in, but dammit, I want to be ready when that day comes. The wallpaper in the rooms MUST GO, says I, so... a-stripping we went. It was a family affair, with the boys and my Mom doing a lot of the stripping. I went to work on the yucky tile backsplash behind the stove area. Brown tile is NOT my thing. Crow bar and hammer in hand, I went at it. Bit by bit, they came off. They came off with the drywall paper attached, but I was ok with that since I'm just going to replace the tile. But then, *IT* happened. A piece of tile came off with the drywall attached. ARGGHHH! I had just put a hole in my new wall. "FUCK" was the only thing my mind could say right then. I stared at the tile, and I stared at the wall, and then I kept going. The drywall behind the center of the tile was crumbling- it was a mess. My 2" hole turned into a 4" x 12" hole. "FUCK", again, was the only thing my mind could say.
Then it said "DAD!!!!!!!!!" because my Dad is pretty good with home improvements. He came over last weekend and replaced the drywall for me. Thanks Dad! He also put together the new lawn mower, which I had planned on using this past week. I pulled into the driveway last Monday night, opened the garage door, and just about fell over due to the strong smell of gasoline. *grumph* The mower has a leak, and it leaked an entire tank onto my garage floor. I filled it back up, and tried to run the mower. After a few passes, it stopped. DOA. "FUCK", again, came to mind. I never did get the sucker started again. I pushed it back into the garage, and pulled it out again yesterday morning. The gas tank had again emptied itself onto the garage floor, so I decided to take it back. But first, I had to go pee. (TMI, whatever) I clogged the toilet. While going #1. In a virtually empty house, with no plunger. "FUCK", I say to you. Fortunately, the previous owners left a toilet bowl cleaning brush (EWWWWW), so I got it un-clogged.
I was NOT thrilled with the idea of a leaking lawn mower in the back of the van, but, determined to be an independent woman, I loaded the mower into the van by myself and took off for Lowes. They happily exchanged it. Kewl! That was pretty easy. Next stop: Sears. Why? You might ask. Because the refridgerator I bought was "dropped off the truck" last weekend (I missed the delivery truck by 15 minutes last Saturday, dang it!). They couldn't order a new one because it's been upgraded to the new model, so I was told to go to ANY Sears store to pick out a new one.
ANY is capitalized for a reason. Upon arriving at my local Sears Appliance and Hardware store, I picked out a new fridge and then found a salesman to ring it up. Julie was the unlucky salesman of the day. Unlucky because she told me she wouldn't help me because I had to go back to the original store I bought it from. 45 minutes away. (I happened to be there one day, found what I liked, and bought it, thinking "why not? They're a national chain- why should I have to buy from the one closest to my house?" I now know the error of my ways.) I was NOT cordial. The tiger in me pushed to the forefront and took over. You know- the one with "don't mess with this PMS dizzy bitch" tattooed on her forehead.
"WHAT? That is NOT what customer service told me. Besides- how can I "return" an item I don't have, and never took possession of? I have NOTHING to give you to return! (I'm getting pissed. Losing my cool. It's been a "day", and this was the proverbial tip of the iceberg) Why can't you do this? Do I look like I'm dressed for shopping today? (I went out wearing my painting clothes) I am NOT in the mood for this right now."
"I can't help you because I don't want my store to take a hit for the return, and because Sears Appliance and Hardware is the step-child of the mall stores- we are not connected in any way."
"NOT CONNECTED? Doesn't the sign say "SEARS" on the front door? You just don't WANT to help me." (now I'm REALLY pissed, because I've realized she doesn't want to help me because it will be inconvenient for her to do so)
"Ma'am (drop 10 points for "ma'am"ing me), please don't yell at me. And please leave my store."
"Oh, don't worry.. I am leaving- but NOT until I talk to your manager"
"I AM the manager. The acting manager. The store manager is out of town."
"Then I hope YOUR manager knows what level of service you are giving customers in his absence!"
"Sorry Ma'am (drop 10 more points for "ma'am"ing me), but you'll have to go back to Tri-County."
"SORRY? You're SORRY? (by now I've noticed my voice echoes nicely in this store) I CHOSE Sears to buy my appliances from time and time again because of the level of service and quality of products... and THIS is how I am rewarded? Your delivery crew DROPS MY REFRIDGERATOR OFF OF THE TRUCK, it's been discontinued, so I can't get another one, and you are going to insist that I go all the way to Tri-County to pick out a new one? What kind of service is THAT!" (by now the 5 other customers in the store are well aware of my situation, having peered around the corner of the aisles to listen to the raving lunatic woman in the front of the store)
"Ma'am (dammit! She did it AGAIN!), PLEASE LEAVE THE STORE."
"I AM leaving, and I hope that EVERYONE knows how piss-poor Sears handles broken merchandise and returns!"
As I turn to exit the store, I suddenly realize that a few male employees are standing behind me, ready to assist me to my car. Ooops.
I cry.
I admit it...
I cried.
I had HAD it. A leaking lawn mower, vertigo acting up really bad, clogged toilet, holes in my drywall, wallpaper stuck to the drywall (read: the drywall paper was coming off with the wallpaper), walls that were papered over really crappy spackling jobs (read: drywall not finished), a smashed fridge, and now this. I was DONE.
*sigh*
I called customer service to make sure they knew that I could NOT go to any store, but had to go to the original store... and they again said "No- you can go anywhere". I asked them to call the Milford store and explain the situation, which they did. They came back on the line and told me that Jim would be happy to help me, should I chose to come back.
I had since decided that I didn't want that store to get my sale, so I went to the mall store closest to me. I asked for the manager. I explained what happened to the first refridgerator. He said "You have to go back to the store you bought it from."
I. Frikkin. Lost. It.
You have GOT to be kidding me, right? RIGHT!!! Well, sort of. Once he figured out that I really didn't have anything to return, that the delivery people had already processed the "return", and that all I needed to do was pick out a new model (duh), they were happy to help. The saleslady showed me the model that was replacing the one I had originally picked out. It was $50.00 more than the first one, so I told her I would take that one, IF she would sell it to me for $50.00 less. "No" was the answer. I couldn't believe it. The delivery guys drop my refridgerator off of the truck, and they won't even give me $50.00 off of the new one?
*PISSED*
I left.
Meanwhile...back at the house, another tragedy was playing itself out, unbeknownst to me.
My parents were there. Sort of. My parents came over while I was gone. Dad was going to check out the broken lawnmower, mow the lawn, and do some electrical work. He was NOT pleased. I wasn't there, and neither was the lawnmower. So he took off in the car to go find me. Only Mom was there when I got back, so she filled me in. Of course, I had no idea they were coming over at all on Sunday, but that didn't matter. Psychic daughter should have known better.
When Dad finally got back, he was still madder than hell, and I wanted to be anywhere but near him for a few hours. If he was outside.. I was in. If he was inside... I was out. He did the electrical work in the kitchen while I weeded and pruned trees. I spackled, sanded, and cleaned in the kitchen while he mowed the lawn. I finally left at 8pm, went back to Sears (Jim told me I could come to "Friends and Family Night" after 6pm and I'd get an extra 10% off of my purchase), bought the damn fridge, and went home to get goodnight kisses from the boys.
What a fucking day.
I call Do-Over.
posted by AFSister at 10:59 AM | 
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