I shouldn't have done it. I knew it would end badly. But I let myself by seduced by the dream. I let myself be blinded by the fairy dust. I bought my washer and dryer at Home Depot.
The avalanche of paperwork alone should have rung a warning bell in my head. Any sane person would have recognized it as a portent of bad things to come, but not me. I was too busy looking at the twenty percent off signs and being dazzled by their talk of rebates and quick delivery. I allowed myself to forget the past and dared to believe the glass slipper would fit this time.
Pick a day, any day, the salesman enticed me. Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday. Think of us as your fairy Godmother. We will wave our wand and make all your delivery dreams come true.
Giddily, I wallowed in the heady sensation of being all-powerful. I enjoyed the heady rush the freedom of choice gave me. My prince had come and he was wearing an orange vest. I picked Thursday.
On Wednesday afternoon, I got the call. My brand new washer and dryer would be delivered the next day. I was exstatic, I was euphoric, I was doomed to disappointment.
Thursday came, but there was no knock on the door, no ringing of the bell, no jangle of the phone heralding the much anticipated arrival of my new appliances. There was only the distant sound of a clock striking midnight.
Still not quite wanting to believe my coach had turned back into a pumpkin, I called Home Depot.
Oh, yes, they assured me, the order was done.
Done? You mean like my dream of you people actually getting something right for once?
They seemed surprised by hostility, and quickly shifted the blame to the manufacturer. Really, they stressed, we have nothing to do with the whole shipping and delivery process. The manufacturer sends it to a warehouse and a local delivery firm takes it from there. Honest. We just sell the stuff.
I could feel my coachman turning back into a big, fat rat with beady eyes and twitching whiskers.
So you sell stuff you don't have, promise delivery dates you can't control to unsuspecting customers and have no real way of tracking it beyond the date of purchase. Does that about sum it up? How about cancelling an order and giving a full refund? Is that something you can do?
I was quickly transferred to the shipping company where the dream continued to fade.
It wasn't their fault, they protested. They had nothing to do with the sale or delivery. They were just the manufacturer. They had tons of washers and dryers, all ready to go. They didn't need to track orders because that was not their job. It must have been the delivery service.
The four white horses once again became squeeky, little mice.
The shipping company proved to be no better at accepting responsibility than the other two. It couldn't be them, they said. They would never promise delivery and then not deliver.
When I pointed out that my caller ID proved otherwise, they fell back on the tried and true escuse that all rodents use: our computer is down, so I can't access your information.
Yeah, right. And the ugly stepsisters are posing for the cover of Sports Illustrated.
After much haggling and promising and threatening, I was assured my appliances would be delivered this Friday, but I'm not holding my breath.
Instead, I'm hunting for a certain queen who can whip up a few poisoned apples.
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