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Shitty, shitty customer service
May. 20th, 2008 05:55 pmADDENDUM: To my once weekly update.
In the category of poor customer service, first I shot off this to DDD of the drag-yer-ass shipping:
While I was at it, I also sent another letter to "Entertainment Weekly" expressing my displeasure at finding an issue with literally half its pages devoted to Sex and the City, the series and the upcoming movie. It says right on the cover, as if it's something to be proud of, 63 pages of 'Sex'!. I couldn't care less about Sex and the City, have in fact only seen one episode (because it had Alan Cumming) and I thought this was a pretty bold assumption on their part that the series inspired such mass appeal to merit half a freakin' issue. I wanted my subscription prorated for the cost of the issue (joking), and a promise that they'd give at least as much fanfare to Harry Potter once the final movie has been released. I think 7 books, 8 movies, oodles of marketing tie-ins, not to mention making Daniel Radcliffe and JK Rowling the richest people in England in their respective fields AND getting children excited about books again deserves a damn sight more coverage than they have received so far. Certainly more than stupid Sex and the City.
But this is the real thing I forgot to add to my last post. Thursday I went to Walmart, a place I normally try to avoid, but they had certain organizational accoutrements much cheaper than anywhere else online. As usual, a quick stop for one item turned into a mini-spree when I realized they had those energy-efficient lightbulbs, Pillsbury apple turnovers that you can't get anywhere else in Denver (everyone else only has cherry, bleah), propane tanks and milk.
It was pretty busy for a Thursday afternoon (I'm kidding. I have no idea what it looks like on a Thursday afternoon) but I got in the Express Lane with my meager selection. Whether the girl in front of me was within the 20-item limit was debatable, but whatever. I was mellow and forgiving, mostly because my sister called at that moment and distracted me.
Then we hung up and I realized I hadn't moved an inch since entering the line 10 minutes ago. Express Lane, whut? I watched with silent frustration as the second Express Lane moved steadily and smoothly, as an Express Lane should, while our cashier seemed to summon a supervisor for every single transaction. But I just KNEW the minute I changed lanes it would suddenly reverse and I'd regret my decision AND look like an asshole.
FINALLY it was the girl's turn in front of me. As she started putting her items up, her friend that had been popping in and out disappeared again. Halfway through the transaction, she mentioned something to the cashier about not having received her discount card in the mail yet (?), which necessitated a supervisor to be called immediately, naturally. 5 minutes later the supervisor finished inputting a code so complex I swear she might have been booking plane tickets. I stood in stony silence.
Then when everything was finally rung up, suddenly the friend reappeared and I guess had her discount card, which meant the supervisor had to be called AGAIN to override the previous card (or something). Of course now things were really hopping and the supervisor couldn't get over right away. I glared a stabbity hot look of death at the girl, who noticed and looked as though she was going to start something, but at that moment I turned it instead onto the cashier, who gave me a helpless shrug.
At last it was my turn, 20 minutes after getting in line. The cashier said in a carefree sort of way, "Sorry about the wait!"
I couldn't resist responding, my voice dripping with sarcasm (which is mostly wasted on people in this state), "Yeah, not much of an Express Lane, is it?"
"Yeah, haha," she answered nervously.
She started bagging the propane tanks, worrying aloud that they were going to blow up. "They won't blow up," I assured her. She explained that they actually had a Pillsbury roll container explode at the check-out after becoming too warm. I said it was hardly surprising, if today were any indication. My stuff was rung up, bagged and paid for in under 3 minutes, as it should be in an Express Lane.
Not that I blame the poor cashier. The Express Lane rule should, I believe, exclude anyone with complicating issues or extenuating circumstances that would delay their transaction, like wanting to buy cigarettes that are locked up a half a mile away. But hell, it's enough of a battle getting people to stay under the item limit.
In the category of poor customer service, first I shot off this to DDD of the drag-yer-ass shipping:
Reason for Return: I received this order yesterday. I shipped it back to you this morning because I got tired of waiting and found it at Target for a dollar less. 2 weeks to ship from 3 states over is completely unacceptable. I received a DVD from Spain in only 5 days. Free shipping, true, but 2 weeks??? It would have been faster for me to drive there and pick it up myself. I'm extremely unhappy with this transaction, so have it back. Plus now I'm out $1.85 to ship it back to you. Bad form, Amazon.com pays for return shipping themselves.
While I was at it, I also sent another letter to "Entertainment Weekly" expressing my displeasure at finding an issue with literally half its pages devoted to Sex and the City, the series and the upcoming movie. It says right on the cover, as if it's something to be proud of, 63 pages of 'Sex'!. I couldn't care less about Sex and the City, have in fact only seen one episode (because it had Alan Cumming) and I thought this was a pretty bold assumption on their part that the series inspired such mass appeal to merit half a freakin' issue. I wanted my subscription prorated for the cost of the issue (joking), and a promise that they'd give at least as much fanfare to Harry Potter once the final movie has been released. I think 7 books, 8 movies, oodles of marketing tie-ins, not to mention making Daniel Radcliffe and JK Rowling the richest people in England in their respective fields AND getting children excited about books again deserves a damn sight more coverage than they have received so far. Certainly more than stupid Sex and the City.
But this is the real thing I forgot to add to my last post. Thursday I went to Walmart, a place I normally try to avoid, but they had certain organizational accoutrements much cheaper than anywhere else online. As usual, a quick stop for one item turned into a mini-spree when I realized they had those energy-efficient lightbulbs, Pillsbury apple turnovers that you can't get anywhere else in Denver (everyone else only has cherry, bleah), propane tanks and milk.
It was pretty busy for a Thursday afternoon (I'm kidding. I have no idea what it looks like on a Thursday afternoon) but I got in the Express Lane with my meager selection. Whether the girl in front of me was within the 20-item limit was debatable, but whatever. I was mellow and forgiving, mostly because my sister called at that moment and distracted me.
Then we hung up and I realized I hadn't moved an inch since entering the line 10 minutes ago. Express Lane, whut? I watched with silent frustration as the second Express Lane moved steadily and smoothly, as an Express Lane should, while our cashier seemed to summon a supervisor for every single transaction. But I just KNEW the minute I changed lanes it would suddenly reverse and I'd regret my decision AND look like an asshole.
FINALLY it was the girl's turn in front of me. As she started putting her items up, her friend that had been popping in and out disappeared again. Halfway through the transaction, she mentioned something to the cashier about not having received her discount card in the mail yet (?), which necessitated a supervisor to be called immediately, naturally. 5 minutes later the supervisor finished inputting a code so complex I swear she might have been booking plane tickets. I stood in stony silence.
Then when everything was finally rung up, suddenly the friend reappeared and I guess had her discount card, which meant the supervisor had to be called AGAIN to override the previous card (or something). Of course now things were really hopping and the supervisor couldn't get over right away. I glared a stabbity hot look of death at the girl, who noticed and looked as though she was going to start something, but at that moment I turned it instead onto the cashier, who gave me a helpless shrug.
At last it was my turn, 20 minutes after getting in line. The cashier said in a carefree sort of way, "Sorry about the wait!"
I couldn't resist responding, my voice dripping with sarcasm (which is mostly wasted on people in this state), "Yeah, not much of an Express Lane, is it?"
"Yeah, haha," she answered nervously.
She started bagging the propane tanks, worrying aloud that they were going to blow up. "They won't blow up," I assured her. She explained that they actually had a Pillsbury roll container explode at the check-out after becoming too warm. I said it was hardly surprising, if today were any indication. My stuff was rung up, bagged and paid for in under 3 minutes, as it should be in an Express Lane.
Not that I blame the poor cashier. The Express Lane rule should, I believe, exclude anyone with complicating issues or extenuating circumstances that would delay their transaction, like wanting to buy cigarettes that are locked up a half a mile away. But hell, it's enough of a battle getting people to stay under the item limit.
