Exactly what the title says.
You know, the world is supposed to be a whole lot easier now that we can order pretty much anything online right? WRONG you son of a donkey! WRONG.
So, I went to a couple of different furniture dealers in the new area I live, and they didn’t have the exact furniture I had in mine. And yes, I’m picky, picky as all heck when it’s what I want in my home. So a friend (who shall remain anonymous) told me of an online store he found. Said it seemed legit. Famous Last Words.
Well, first, after ordering, I contact the company because after 2 weeks my order says still pending. Come to find out, apparently only in their own little world your billing address HAS to match your shipping address. I have never heard of this before, and I am an online shopoholic. I mean, what if you’re buying a gift for someone. Yes, a gift of 2 bedroom sets. And a dining room table. It could happen.
So we fix that and it takes a week to finish. And let me say that although I had to change my bank information, they had already taken the thousands of dollars for my purchases. I probably should have just cancelled then. But I’m stubborn. And I wanted the exact furniture I paid for. So I stuck through it.
And so the day before I receive a call that they’ll be able to deliver the next day between 4 and 7pm. Weird times to me, but okay. And so day of, I leave work, sit in my house, and make sure everything’s out of the way. And I sit. And sit. And sit. Until at 615pm I start calling the company. No one answers. I leave a message. I go online. Leave a message there. I keep calling back and leave a message with Sales, Customer Service, and the General Mailbox. No answer. No answer. No answer.
730 rolls around and everything I planned to do AFTER the delivery is shot. But I get a phone call. And really, I can barely understand the guy, and I’ve lived in another country for the past 4 years! “Ms. dimensionthe5th, we are on our way. We hit traffic.”
ARE YOU FRACKIN SERIOUS?
“Um, yes. Was the traffic so bad that you could not dial my number until now?”
“Uh, uh… unintelligible gibberish.”
“Fine. When will you be here?”
“About 45 minutes.”
They arrive at 9:30. I guess they can’t count so good either. They seriously take until 1130 to finish, and then, theeeeeeeen, these son of a monkey’s donkey have the nerve to tell me I can put the knobs on my dresser and chest myself. I did a stare. A stare that means I am slowly peeling the skin from your body inch by inch with a rusty knife dipped in a mad cow’s butthole.
They then finish putting on my knobs and leave the house.
Me and my teenage monster do not get to sleep until after 12, and we have work and school the next day. Right now, I’m thinking of making voodoo dolls. It’s been about a week. I don’t think anyone can track it back to me. Maybe.