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The mundane and annoying

Published November 24, 2014 craptastic treatment , customer service , home decorating 4 Comments

It’s been awhile since I’ve felt the need to skewer a big company on this puny blog. I hadn’t really had much to complain about. Charter, while performing anemically at times and costing too much, was being relatively straightforward with us. We’ve successfully avoided a Hyatt since 2010. We sold a condo and bought a house with little argument in doing both. I’ve bought myriad new things for the house and those things have been delivered in a timely manner, and in tact. And I’ve also been charged correctly for them! Well, things changed this weekend, my friends.

I’m back to complain!

First up: IKEA. Now, as you know, I’m generally a big fan of the large blue Swedish store. I mean, how can you not be? Well, I’ll tell you how. You have your good friend pick you up a Besta Burs, which you already have one of, on her way back from Chicago a couple of weeks ago. Then you let it sit in your house, unopened, for weeks, but you let your new puppy chew on the box from time to time. Next step? You decide to put it together on Saturday with help from your two-year old. Things go swimmingly until you reach step 10. The piece of wood required for step 10 does not exist in your home. Instead, there is a piece of wood with no holes in it. You quickly realize that a large piece of wood with no holes has no business coming from Ikea. How on Earth would you attach it to anything?! Oy. So, then you decide to call the customer service number that isn’t so easy to find on the company’s website. 20 minutes later, you’re still waiting for a live person. When one finally comes on, you’re told you’re out of luck if you don’t have the receipt and, even if your friend still has the receipt (which she does because she’s awesome), you need to return the product to the store. What the what? I have to drive over two hours each way to get the product that should have been right the first time. You won’t send me the right part? This is ridiculous. I ask to speak to someone else. I am put on hold again. While on hold, I ask AO about the possibility of drilling our own holes. He thinks it’s possible. I hang up after thirty minutes on the phone. Annoying.

Second place: West Elm. Normally, I am a big fan of the midcentury-modernesque Pottery Barn counterpart. But not today! At the end of October, I decided to pull the trigger and order a new chandelier for the dining room. The one that I had bought from Barnlight Electric is cute, but it’s more of a task light than a dining room light. We decided it would work better over the sink in the kitchen. So, the quest for a new light began. My mom and Molly and I went to Madison Lighting, but nothing quite struck me. We went to Pottery Barn with the same result. I couldn’t stop seeing chandeliers everywhere. I became obsessed with light. I looked online at the usual suspects: Crate & Barrel, CB2, Overstock, All Modern, Joss & Main, One Kings Lane, Rejuvenation. I kept meaning to stop into Rubin’s, but I also kept forgetting. Finally, I settled on one from West Elm. I really loved it and it came with free shipping. Hooray! So, I clicked and clicked until enough clicking confirmed I had ordered it. Only it wasn’t supposed to arrive until the end of November. No problem, I thought, it’ll still be here in time for Thanksgiving and my family will all be able to see how truly talented I am at buying chandeliers. All that was left to do was wait.

Wait.

Today I decided I needed to check to see which day this week it would be arriving. I went to my saved email and saw that the original email said November 26. Not ideal, but workable. I clicked through to the website to see if there was an update. Well, was there? There was! Oh, it’s not scheduled to ship until FEBRUARY!!! February!!! I’m. So. Annoyed. I get that things happen and that the manufacturer must have estimated the lead time incorrectly. Fine. But why did West Elm not tell me? Why did they not send me an update when I’m sitting here thinking my Thanksgiving lighting situation is all under control?! I know, I know: First World Problems. I understand that this is not Ebola or ISIS or world hunger or cancer. I do. But I’m annoyed.

And I’m thinking of walking to Rubin’s at lunch.

A very unhappy fathers’ day brunch

Published June 15, 2014 bling blog , craptastic treatment , customer service , Madisonia , toddler stuff 6 Comments
Tags: customer service, Tex Tubb's

Ugh. What a disappointment.

Last December, I signed AO up for a sausage-making class in Chicago scheduled for the Saturday of Fathers’ Day weekend. I had thought we’d all make a weekend of it, but that was before we moved into the house that’s needed a lot of money spent on it, before the GAOOG generation set the date for her wedding and before we adopted a crazy dog. So, AO went it alone and trekked solo back & forth to Chicago on Saturday to make sausage. Of course Sunday, not Saturday, was Fathers’ Day, so I still felt we needed to do something to mark the occasion, but we’ve both been spent and overwhelmed by the house, the dog & the 2-year old, so I knew we weren’t up for much. Neighborhood brunch seemed doable and pleasant and something we’d been meaning to do for awhile. We decided on Tex Tubb’s Taco Palace, which is just a few blocks away. Neither of us had been in years and while we both remembered the food being kinda meh, we decided to give it a go. Boy, were we wrong.

The food, once I got some, was fairly delicious. The service and organization? Just shy of a fiasco. When we walked in, we were greeted rather indifferently by a hostess who put us at a table with menus and crayons. Crayons are always a nice touch, so despite the laissez faire attitude, I was optimistic. But then we were left to ourselves for a significant amount of time. Tick, tock. No water, no coffee, no server. People around us were served, coffees were refilled, food was delivered, people were asked if everything was going ok. We were not spoken to. Tick. Tock. I decided I needed to go ask the indifferent hostess what was going on. I was so thirsty and needed coffee! While the place had lots of other patrons, there were also many empty tables so I didn’t feel like it was a “Argh, we’re overwhelmed, please be patient” situation. It felt like we were in no man’s land server-wise. It started to feel very weird. And with a 2-year old, I always feel like we’re on borrowed time, so I decided action needed to be taken. So, I went back up to the front and asked the indifferent hostess. She asked me where we were sitting. I told her we were in the other room, along the back wall. She needed me to be more specific. Honestly, it’s not that big of a place and everyone else in the room had a server. I wanted to say, “At the table with no food, water or a server,” but instead told her it was the middle table. A short time later, a very nice woman with red hair brought us two waters (sorry, Molly) and told us our server would be with us shortly. After that, our server came by – without explanation or apology – and asked us if we wanted anything to drink. We did. We also ordered breakfast. Huevos rancheros for AO, migas sans sour cream for me & an egg in a slice of Madison Sourdough toast with a slice of bacon for Bear. All three dishes are served with breakfast potatoes.

And then we waited. It took awhile to get our coffees because, apparently, the pot ran out and they needed to brew more. Ok, I thought, at least they explained themselves. But odd. I mean, they serve breakfast starting at 8. It was 10ish. Seemed like things should be well-oiled by that time. Anyway, we keep waiting. Eventually, a third server brought AO’s huevos rancheros, but with rice & beans instead of potatoes (no explanation given) and Bear’s egg in toast with a small bowl of potatoes and no bacon (no explanation given). The server asked me if I had ordered anything. I told her, why yes, I had. “Oh, the migas!” she said. She then left us and we never saw her again. I asked AO & Molly to start eating. Why wait? It’ll be here soon. Uh, no. More than five minutes go by when I realized no one is coming back. Our server isn’t the least bit interested in us and neither is anyone else. I trudge back to the front (again) and ask if I’m going to be served. I almost started to cry because this was getting so embarrassing and felt like it was deliberate. I’d recently heard a This American Life episode in which David Sedaris tells Ira that he observes people being treated badly or ignored in restaurants and then makes fun of them in his stories (he was talking about how it took him a very long time to go out to eat alone because he feared he’d be ignored and end up the subject of a David Sedaris-esque story in someone else’s life). I worried this was happening to me. I ask the redhead and the hostess – who were together – about my meal and Bear’s bacon. The hostess pretty much immediately left to go into the kitchen. The kind redhead asked what I ordered and after I tell her, says, strangely, “Well, this is embarrassing, but we ran out of breakfast potatoes. Would you like sweet potato fries?” What? Aside from the fact that I never want sweet potato fries, what does this have to do with my migas? At that point, I didn’t even remember potatoes were supposed to come with the migas. I. Just. Want. Eggs. And Molly’s bacon. She asked if rice & beans would be ok instead. Sure. I stumbled back to the table, confused. After I relayed the perplexing explanation to AO, he said, “So, for the huevos rancheros, they just automatically subbed out the potatoes for the rice and beans I got, but they were totally stumped on how to handle the migas?” Argh. A short time later, the nice redhead came over to tell me that they would comp the cost of the migas. Which still hadn’t arrived. We ask for more coffee, though at this point I notice the bottom of my cup is full of coffee grounds. This request, too, is a production because the coffee mugs apparently have to be taken elsewhere to be refilled. There’s no portable pot to bring around. Coffee is then returned to us.

And still we wait. Molly is done with her breakfast, and AO is pushing things around his plate so I will still have someone to eat with if those eggs ever do come. Eventually, they arrive. And a sour creamy thing is in abundance on my plate. AO swiftly grabs my plate to remove the offending white stuff. The eggs, though, they’re tasty, but I’m feeling rushed because we’ve been there over an hour and we have a two-year old with us. Thankfully, Molly’s bacon also arrived (and then some – three strips instead of one), which bought us a little more time out of her.

All in all, the food was great, but the service ruined the whole thing. You see, I’m pretty forgiving. Especially when it comes to service mix ups. All I need is a sincere apology. And maybe an explanation. I’ve waited tables. At a Food Fight restaurant, no less! And I made mistakes. And I apologized and did my best to make up for it. I make mistakes every day: at work, with Molly, with AO, with the dog, with strangers, with the universe. Heck, I’m probably making a mistake right now. I don’t think I ask too much. Yesterday, though, Tex Tubb’s asked too much of me. And it didn’t feel good.

Collosally unhelpful

Published January 9, 2013 craptastic treatment , customer service 9 Comments

You know how sometimes you feel like you’re the only one around you with any sort of competency? I’ve been having that feeling lately as I have been trying to deal with two totally different businesses. The first, Altrec, is a company I’d never heard of, which appears to be headquartered in Redmond, Oregon. The second, the collosal BMO Harris, is the Canadian bank that bought out M&I and that now holds the smaller of our two mortgages.

Let’s talk Altrec. My mom, sweetly, decided Bear needed a snowsuit. I disagreed, but grandma insisted and who am I to stand in the way? My mom bought one from Amazon, but sent it back because it did not come with the foldover sleeves and legs that would have kept Bear’s hands and feet toasty warm. In fact, I think she had to send two snowsuits back. So, for the third time, she turned to Altrec and ordered up a cute green North Face number (way too expensive) in size 12-18 months to be delivered to our door step in two days’ time. Well, it not only was not delivered in two days’ time, it came in size 6-12 months. Now, while the snowsuit probably would have fit Bear, it probably wouldn’t fit for long and I thought the larger size was the right way to go. So, I called the company and spoke with a lovely woman who apologized frequently, sent me a UPS label to return the snowsuit, ordered another one up (though they had only red left) and refunded the extra money my mom had paid for the not-so-quick shipping as soon as I asked her to do so. Ok, no big deal. AO went to the UPS store last week, paid $1 for a bag to ship the green snowsuit in and we were on our way. Last night we come home to a package from Altrec. I open it up and find a red North Face snowsuit size 6-12 months. Egads. Someone in the shipping department is messing with me. I call Atrec, speak with a much less lovely man who needs to speak with someone before he can process the necessary return, but takes my number and tells me he’ll call me back in a few minutes. He does. He emails me a UPS return label and that is that. We will go to the UPS store, pay another $1, and send back the snowsuit. In all, we will be $2 lighter, days older and have no snowsuits for baby bear. Sigh.

Now, as for BMO Harris, the level of incompetence is at a much higher level. Where to begin with this snoozefest of a story? In late 2007, I had to refinance my mortgages due to the pumpkin. M&I, my mortgage bank at the time, refinanced the mortgages for me, sold the larger one to Bank of America and held onto the smaller one. Last year, AO & I refinanced the larger one to get it out from the hands of BoA and into the gentle snuggle of UW Credit Union. When BMO Harris bought out M&I, our smaller mortgage went with them. The smaller mortgage was a five-year adjustable rate loan with a whopper of an interest rate around 6.5%. The bank withdrew about $281 automatically on the seventh of every month. At the end of 2012, I called BMO Harris to ask what was going to happen at the end of the year because the 5-year period was coming to an end. I asked about refinancing options. After spending what felt like hours on the phone, the woman with whom I spoke finally concluded that nothing was going to change because it was a home equity loan and HEL’s don’t have adjustable rates. Hmm. I thought this was a strange explanation, but it was the only one I was offered, the woman seemed so self-assured, I’d already spent too long on the phone and I was not sure how else to explore the issue. So, that was the end of that. Except it wasn’t. On January 2 of this year, I checked our checking account from my sick bed to discover BMO Harris had withdrawn about $192 from our account. Uh, hmm. I called the bank and, after being placed on hold multiple times so the man with whom I was speaking could consult with multiple people, was told that what had happened was this: when I had my loan with M&I, I had been paying more than I needed to in an effort to put more money towards the principal and now that BMO Harris was completely in charge, I was paying just the right amount. What? I was almost positive there was no way this could be right, but I didn’t know how to argue about it because, again, I had been on the phone forever, the guy seemed so sure of himself and why would I argue about paying less money? I hung up, baffled but worn down. A few days later, I checked the new statement for the mortgage on BMO Harris’s website and was not exactly startled to see that my interest rate had gone down from 6.5% to 2.8%. This was actually what I thought may have happened. Because interest rates are lower now, I thought perhaps my adjustable rate loan had been adjusted lower. Of course, this did not square with (1) the woman telling me my loan would not change and (2) the guy telling me the only reason for the change was I wasn’t making overpayments now. I noticed, though, that my loan amount for next month is slightly different than this month. It seems the interest rate must adjust every month, something I thought I had read in the fine print did not happen. So, I sent an email to the bank — hoping that maybe seeing something in writing would give them the chance to respond more thoughtfully and, gasp, accurately — detailing all that had happened and asking for an explanation. Last night I received a call from an 800 number, which I normally wouldn’t answer. I was feeling responsible, though, so I picked up. It was a guy from BMO Harris! I was so excited. He was calling to tell me that I would be receiving a letter soon that would explain what he was going to tell me, and I shouldn’t throw it out even though it may look like junk mail. Yay! This was getting good. I was going to get an oral explanation and something in writing. I. Was. Thrilled. He said, “Katherine, coming soon your automatic payments will have to come out on the 1st of the month. M&I had allowed you to pick a day in between the 1st of the month and the end of your grace period, but we can’t have that.” Wait, what? I said, my payment already came out on the 1st. Well, the 2nd I suppose, but it already came out early. “No, no,” he said. “Don’t worry. It’s not late this month, this is for next month.” Dude. I said, “I get that, but it’s already happened.” Pause. “Oh. I can’t see that here. I’m just calling to tell you about this letter.” Collosal sigh. My shoulders sink. “So, if you can’t see my loan, I suppose you also can’t answer all of the questions I’ve been asking about the issues I’ve been having with it?” “No,” he says. “But you can call our 800 number.” Yeah, thanks.

Speaking of boycotting…

Published July 24, 2012 craptastic treatment , customer service 2 Comments

See! I’m not alone in my Hyatt boycott…And these are even better reasons than my personal one.

And more here.

The good and the bad

Published July 24, 2011 customer service 6 Comments
Tags: American TV, Continental, Costco

Except let’s do them in reverse order. As you know, Dear Reader, AO and I are redoing our previously unused finished basement. Well, it was used, but sparingly and mostly just for AO’s morning primping. In remaking the space, we decided we wanted a — gasp — bigger tv. So, last weekend we found ourselves at Costco scoping out the televisions. Because we didn’t really know what we were looking for, and didn’t find anyone offering to help us out, we concluded our trip there sans tv, but with a plan to head to American. Off we went! At American, we were, of course, immediately approached with (an attempt at) charm. We told the young fellow, Max, that we were just looking, but that we would find him when we had questions. After looking around a bit, we asked Max for help. We told him we were looking for something between 40 and 46 inches and that was about all we knew. We didn’t know whether we wanted LED, LCD or Plasma. We were pretty sure we didn’t want 3D, but we didn’t understand why all of the tvs were purporting to be ‘smart’ and whether that was something we wanted. Eventually, after Max filled us in on all the bells and whistles, and instructed us we’d be best off with an LED television, we narrowed down our search to a couple of Samsung models. In asking Max about the difference between a few of the tvs we were focused in on, we learned — or, rather, we were told — that a particular tv had a Flickr app(lication) from which we could stream our pictures. Well, as you know Dear Reader, I heart Flickr and I just about swooned when I heard this. The television was quite a bit more than we wanted to spend (quite a bit more), but because of its size (46″), its amazing picture quality, the Flickr app, and Max’s voice breaking when he realized the television cost even less than it had earlier in the week, we were sold. Off we went with more tv than we needed and more tv than we could afford. But it had Flickr! Or so we were told.

Fast forward a week later. I realize there is no Flickr app. Or at least no application that I can find. I call American. I tell the man who answers my concern. He passes me on to Max who starts the conversation with, “Who is this?” I speak to Max. And now is where I start to get angry. Max tells me multiple stories. In one, he tells me, well, the tv has Photobucket. In another, he says Sony has Flickr. Helpful. In yet another, he says the tv may have Flickr, but not Flickr Pro (I told him we had a Pro account). When I tell him they’re the same thing, really, he says, “Oh, well, I didn’t know.” He leaves to go check the tv for himself, which of course shows he has no idea if the tv has the app or not. He returns to the phone and tells me if he had known it was important to me, he would have checked on it before I purchased the tv. I stifle the urge to tell him if I’d know he was in the habit of making things up, I would have asked for another salesman. I say, “Look, you said there were hundreds of apps, and specifically a Flickr app.” He says, “There are hundreds of apps.” I say, “That’s fine, but there is no Flickr app.” He says, “I went through all of the apps with you.” I again stop myself from what I really want to say, which is, “(a) You told us there was a Flickr app and this is why we are on the phone right now! and (b) You just said there are hundreds of apps so there is no way you went through every single one of them with us when we spent no more than 15 minutes with you.” Argh. I am getting frustrated as I am clearly not dealing with someone honest or interested in righting the situation. I tell him I am not satisfied. I tell him I feel duped. He says, “In no way, shape or form did I ‘duped’ you.” I’m upset. He asks me what would help the situation. I tell him I need him to stop telling people there is a Flickr application on the television when there isn’t and ask him to call ‘his’ Samsung representative to find out if, and when, a Flickr application will be available for the tv (something he offered to do about five minutes earlier in the call). Fine. We end the conversation. At this point, though, I am livid. I am upset with how he treated me and, more significantly, I am upset that he lied. Whether he knew he was lying or not, I don’t know. But there is no Flickr app on the $$$$ television we bought. I tell AO, who is clearly not on board with my plan, that I need to return the tv. We spent too much money to be treated this way and I’m not going to let them get away with it. To me, this is now a moral issue. To Aaron, it’s a headache and a possible embarrassment. We pack up the tv and head off to American. We walk in, take the enormous tv to customer service and return it. The customer service woman calls for Max to come over to deal with the situation, but he declines, citing another customer’s needs. I’m relieved. Money back on our card (I hope) and we are done with the place.

Off to Costco. We find a Phillips tv with the same picture quality and motion sensor stuff (in numbers anyway) as the Samsung. It’s also the same size. It also brags of being ‘smart,’ but appears more humble about it. It’s also the display model so it’s marked down quite a bit. It’s less than half of the cost of the American debacle. Sold! A nice man named Arthur helps us with the purchase. Arthur, the check-out woman and Toussaint, the man checking our receipt, all comment on what a great deal we made. I agree.

On another positive note, and one that just sparkles with great customer service, I have to give a shout out to Continental. In February, I booked a ticket to see Sarayu in LA in April. Well, wouldn’t you know, the GAOOG just had to dart off to Albuquerque that same weekend to film In Plain Sight. Drat. So, the ticket was canceled and I was told I had a year (from February) to rebook the ticket, which would mean paying a fee of some sort ($150, I think) and any difference in price in the future ticket. Well, while it’s only July, I started getting nervous that I might not be able to use the ticket in time. And I just started getting more and more annoyed about the additional $150 fee. So, I decided to go out on a limb and email Continental and ask for a refund to my card. I realize it wasn’t exactly a dangerous limb I had headed out on, but I thought it a long-shot. Lo and behold, about a week after I sent my email, I received a response stating that my full ticket price would be refunded to my credit card. About a day after I received the email, I received the credit on my credit card statement! Hallelujah! I am so pleased with Continental for making the process simple, painless and right. Thanks, Continental!

UPDATE: The $$$$ from the debacle is indeed back on our credit card and I can breathe a little easier. I have no explanation for how we thought it was at all reasonable for us to spend that much on a television in the first place. I blame myself: I got a little overwhelmed by too much information (or, as it were, not enough), wanting to get it over with and the allure of a giant slideshow. I am so relieved that chapter is now closed.

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