Lessons Learned

On our moving day, M and I drove past an abandoned car along the interstate. A bit later, we passed a young man carrying a gas can back toward the car.

“Looks like someone learned a lesson,” I said to M. “And I’m glad it wasn’t me. I hate learning lessons.”

“Yeah, me too,” she said.

One of the lessons I’ve learned this week was not to buy appliances from Sears. I suppose the appliances themselves are fine, but here’s my (painfully detailed) story about customer disservice:

Section I: The Purchase

We decided our townhouse would be more rentable with not just a washing machine but also a dryer. Because of our renovations, however, there was no place for a dryer except for on top of the washing machine, which meant that we needed to buy stackable units.

At the local Sears appliance center, saleswoman Melissa talked me into a set, deliverable last Friday.

“How far is your townhouse from here?” she asked. “My boyfriend works in that area.”

“Sixty miles,” I said.

Section II: The Workday

On Saturday, J and Nephew J and I piled into J’s truck with the units on the trailer and puttered up to the townhouse. J installed the dryer vent and did some other structural prep work while I fiddled and faddled trying to reverse the dryer door’s hinges (to better suit the space). It took me a while, but finally we were both ready to do some stacking.

By that time we were running quite late, so my blood pressure was rising just a bit, which didn’t at all lessen the anguish of discovering that the units weren’t a pair. The stacking kit simply would not accommodate the washing machine.

I had been sold the wrong washer. Rats.

I called the store. Daniel answered.

“Could you tell me if these two units can stack with each other?” I asked him.

“I don’t know; you’d have to talk to our installation guys.”

“Is one available?”

“No, but let me check something.” Then, a minute later, “Here’s the customer service number to call; my manager said they can help you.”

I wrote down the number. “Thank you,” I said. “May I speak to your manager?”

“Let me check,” Daniel said. Then, “Actually, he just stepped out.”

Right.

So I called the Sears customer service number. After some navigation (usually just pressing the zero button multiple times is the quickest way through automation), I finally learned that the stacking kit for the washer is indeed different from the one we had. Our trip had been in vain. (Well, not completely–at least the groundwork for a dryer had been laid.)

J’s advice to me was to go back to the store and talk to my sales person, Melissa. The store would rectify the problem, he assured me. I wasn’t too hopeful, but his suggestion seemed to be the best option. I was just mad that I’d taken up his time and used up his gas and put miles on his truck and the job still wasn’t finished.

Over the weekend, I came up with a plan.

Section III: Going Back to the Store

Chapter 1: First Problem Solved
When I stopped in, at about 4:15 (after my first day at my new job orientation), Melissa was helping some other customers. Finally at about 4:40 she was free, and so I explained the situation.

“Oh, that’s bad,” she said. “You know what happened? When I ordered the washer for you, I just chose the cheapest model, since the one you wanted was the cheapest one in the store.” (Note: When you shop at a Sears store, they just go to Sears.com and buy the thing for you. I’m guessing I could have done that myself–and ordered the right thing, at that!)

The washer I received and the one I requested were the same price, so I told her that I really didn’t care about that, except that I wanted them to stack.

“I’ll order you the right stacking kit for free,” she said.

It’s to be delivered here to our apartment in the next week.

Chapter 2: Real Problem Introduced
“Thank you for ordering that for me,” I said. “I really appreciate your help.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, but I didn’t pick up my folders from the desk to leave.

Instead, I said, “The other problem is that I hired a builder friend for $100 to help me install the set, and I’m paying him fifty cents a mile, and so I’m out $160, and we weren’t able to finish the job because we received the wrong washing machine. I would like to be reimbursed for those expenses.”

Chapter 3: Really Stupid Idea
“Uh, I don’t think we can do that, but maybe we can give you some gift cards, or something,” Melissa said. “I need to ask my manager.” She retreated to the room behind the one-way glass, and I sat and listed as Daniel tried to get the attention of a nearby elderly customer. “Sir!” he demanded. “Sir! Sir!”

Melissa came back only to say, “We could give you a $20 gift card.”

“No. I would like $160 refunded to my credit card. What’s your manager’s name?” She told me and I wrote it down. “May I speak to him, please?”

“He’s in a meeting right now,” she said.

“Okay, I’ll wait.”

Chapter 4: Okay Idea
“Let’s call customer service and see what they can do,” Melissa suggested. “Here’s their number. Do you have a pen to write it down?”

“Can I wait here while you call them?” I asked her.

“Uh, sure,” she said. After awhile into the call, she said the lady wanted to speak to me.

I reexplained the problem.

“Sir, what we can do is give you a $75 refund for one of the machines.”

“Could you do $75 for each machine? That would almost cover my costs.”

“No, just the one. Would you like me to credit that money to you?”

I should have said yes right then, but I hadn’t played all my cards yet, and so I got a case number and said I’d call back to confirm that action.

I should add that, during that call, when I was put on hold for about ten minutes, I asked Melissa if I could speak to the manager while I was waiting, since I’d seen the person he was meeting with leave. She went to check, and reported back that he wanted to wait to see what customer service would say.

“Maybe I could get my boyfriend to help you install it,” Melissa said. “That way you wouldn’t have to pay your friend again.”

Chapter 5: Another Really Stupid Idea
“They’d give me $75,” I said to Melissa after I hung up. “But all this still leaves me out $85,” I said to Melissa. “May I speak to your manager?”

“He might not want to,” she said, but she went to his office and he emerged. Cold. Livid.

“Could I show you the problem?” I asked him, wanting to use the floor models to explain.

“I know the problem,” he said. “We don’t know who’s to blame.”

“Yes we do. I indicated which units I wanted to buy, and I received an incorrect one. I don’t think I should have to pay for a mistake that wasn’t mine.”

“Well,” he said, “the company has offered you $75, so that’s what we can do.”

Chapter 6: Trying to Get the Second Mile
“Can I just show you the problem on the floor units?” I asked.

He came out from behind the counter and watched while I explained.

He walked back behind the counter.

I walked up to the counter.

He stared at me.

I said, “Look, I came here to buy these things because I heard you had good customer service. But it’s not happening.”

“What do you want me to do, pay out of my pocket?”

I lifted my eyebrows and shrugged.

Chapter 7: Yet Another Really Stupid Idea
“Would you like to return the units?”

“Sure,” I said. “But there’s a 15% restocking fee, and then I’d be even further behind.”

“I’ll waive the restocking fee.”

“Can I have that in writing?”

“Sure.” He got a pen and paper and began scrawling: “Customer will return units with owners manuals and all paperwork for full refund if there is no damage to…”

I interrupted, “No damage to what?” I was concerned he wanted the packaging to be intact, too.

“Don’t talk to me. Can’t you see I’m writing?” he snapped.

“I’m sorry, I’ll wait,” I said.

Chapter 8: A Possibility
But then I thought of something else: What about just getting it installed for free? Would that solve my problem? “Mr. E? Your last name’s E, right?”

“I said, don’t talk to me. I’m writing this up for you,” he snapped again.

“Oh, yes. Sorry. I’ll wait.”

When he was finally done, I said, “It’s Mr. E, right?”

His stonefaced unanswer: “We’ve made our offer to you.”

“Look, I don’t want to return the units. If they’ll stack, I’m happy. But you’re right–the $75 from the company would cover my friend’s mileage, and if you could install the units for free, then my problem would be solved. But I can’t miss work to meet the installers.”

He said to Melissa, “Melissa, When is that free installation crew available?”

“I’ll call him and ask,” she said. “He’s working 12-hour days, so probably only Saturday. I’ll try to call him.” But her boyfriend wouldn’t answer the phone.

Chapter 9: The Final Solution
“You know,” I said, “I don’t want to inconvenience Melissa’s boyfriend. I think if you just reimbursed me, everything would be a lot simpler for all of us.”

Mr. E stalked away. I stayed put, determined not to leave until satisfied.

I asked to borrow the phone to call back customer service to confirm that I wanted the $75. (Long story short: I have to wait until my Sears card comes in the mail before I can give them the account number in order for them to credit my card. My fingers are crossed.)

While I was on the phone, I could see through the one-way window just enough to see a safe door being opened. A bit later, Melissa walked over and handed me a check for $75.

As I finished my call, I scrawled a thank you note to each of them. To Mr. E, I wrote, “Thank you for standing behind your business.” To Melissa, I wrote, “Thank you for your kind help.”

I took the check and left. It was after six o’clock.

Epilogue

I’ll feel more resolved about the whole matter once the check is successfully cashed and my Sears card refund comes through. Then I’ll be able to reimburse J for his expenses and time, and uncross my fingers. That will be satisfying.

Perhaps just as satisfying will be knowing that I performed–I think–rather impressively. Not to brag or anything, but it’s nice to know that even hotheads like me can be calm, cool, and collected in problematic situations.

And that’s a good lesson to have learned.