Daily Stats:
Words: many
Caffeine: morning cup
Evil Calories: carrot cake
Reality TV: trashy things on Vh1
About a week ago, I found a nail in some coffee beans I bought from one of our foofy local grocery stores (you know, the ones that try and push $5/lb bananas and gourmet, organic, free-range toilet paper). Of course, I didn't actually find it until it was jammed in between the burrs of my grinder. This is bad. You do NOT want to mess with my grinder. That is the wrong thing to try and break. I will kill you and eat your soul if you keep me from my coffee.
So, in order to keep me from going totally postal, hubby took the whole thing apart so we could get it out. Luckily, we managed to stop the grinder before the nail did any major damage (had it stripped the gears or chipped my burrs, you would have surly seen me on the news). Once I was able to speak in normal, non-howler monkey tones, I returned the coffee and the nail to said grocery store. The manager just stared and me, looking like he was going to throw up and/or piddle himself. I was little irritated because he wouldn't say anything except, "oh, geez." Ummm...hello, you almost killed my grinder, I think you need to be the one carrying the conversation. So after a looooooooooooooooong uncomfortable pause, and several more "oh, geez"s, I suggested he give me a refund. He did...a whole seven dollars. I gotta say, if I were the manager of a store that just sold someone nail ridden coffee beans, I'd be falling all over myself to make it better. How 'bout a free pound of coffee? Nail free, I promise! Or how 'bout a nice bunch of flowers. Maybe some mangos?
Whatever. I'd love to stand here all day and watch you on the verge of tinkling, Mr. foofy grocery store manager, but I gotta go.
So, when I got home I decided to an email to the roaster. They're a small, local company, so I hoped it would find its way to a non-piddling manager who would freak out, send me a truckload of free coffee and even possibly do something bold like name me woman of the year for not suing them. But it's been a week and nothing. No response, no free coffee, no plaques with my lovely face etched in bronze. What has this world come to? What's happened to customer service? I realize a nail is better than a human finger or a dried wad of poo, but it's still bad!
6 comments:
Well, you know those stories that make the news: dead mouse found in hamburger bun; tip of finger found in french fries; roach found in Subway sandwich... who knows, maybe they'd be interested in your nail.
Being a journalist, I can guarantee you they'd be interested if you told them you swallowed the nail, had x-rays taken and were told you were going to die from tetanus bacillus. THAT would make a great lead story.
But, seriously, I'm super glad you didn't swallow it.
Remember when my credit card number was stolen and somebody was trying to fly on BA and Air France? I contacted the last company where I'd used my card and wrote a very nice FYI email that they might need to check their security. Nothing accusatory, and I wasn't expecting to get anything from them. Just a friendly, "Hi, you may have a hole here."
I got NO response. And it wasn't a big retailer. It was small online thing, so I figured they'd want to know! Whatever. They're probably not real happy now that they have the American Express International Fraud division crawling up their butts! I gave 'em a chance to get in front of it!
Although the image of the manager piddling himself is rather funny.
Hey there, Heels-Lady, I'm not saying you should send them a letter bomb or anything, I'm just saying that they need to learn to respond to their mail better.
(And I know how to make letter-bombs)
Sarah - yes, I figured if the grinder had launched the nail up my nose and I walked around for a whole week before I realized I had a nail in my brain, I could have earned a spot on the Today Show.
Ms. Ellis - I'm still shocked you never got a response. Though, if I remember correctly, it was a company I know well. And knowing them, they probably have some underpaid, half-stoned mailroom dweeb working the website, selling credit card numbers for dime bags of weed.
V - ummm...that's a little creepy, V. But good to know! (and see, you can make letter bombs...you're well on your way to making robots!)
The lack of customer service really irks me.
Recently the wife and I were at a restaurant where I decided to get a cheeseburger. I ordered it Medium, because that's how I roll.
My first bite was...um...well, bloody. Like, not-even-cooked-Red. So - nicely - I showed the burger to our waitress. She tried her best.
Oh, that sucks. Of course, I agreed. But, in her mind the conversation ended. Long story short - I had to get the manager who, in not so many words said: Oh, that sucks. He did, after some prompting, take the burger off my bill.
That is serious gross out. I've written letters of complaint before only to be ignored, so I feel you. I have also been the 20-something ignoramus who couldn't give a flying F about the customer's complaint and just stood staring at them. Ya, I've come a long way. 30s is so much better than 20s.
Post a Comment