Several weeks ago I fell victim to one of the dozens of "25% Off! Two Days Only! At One Of The Very Few Stores You Shop At!" emails I get every single day. I bought some cheap tank tops and a pair of bright blue yoga pants from Old Navy. Only I ended up buying them from the Banana Republic check out - you know how you can fill your "cart" and then hunt around the Gap and BR and Piperlime, etc. ANYWAY. That was just the first stupid thing I did.
So a few days later I'm checking the tracking number, as you do, and I find out my package has been delivered. Except, um, no it wasn't. I open my door at least ten times a day hoping to see Surprise Care Packages (which is really sad, because I suck at sending them, OMG MORGAN I AM SORRY!) so I would KNOW if my package arrived. Which it didn't.
It crosses my mind that my package may have been delivered to the old house (this was not long after we moved in) but no, that can't be right, because this would be my SECOND Old Navy order since moving in (see: dozens of sale emails, falling victim to) and THAT one was delivered to the right house. Someone ELSE messed up!
So I call Old Navy and then I find out I have to call Banana Republic and GAH and THEN I find out that yes, indeed, it WAS delivered. It was delivered to my OLD HOUSE. Perhaps the Old Navy site had my new address but the BR site didn't? Still trying to figure out how this isn't MY fault, and, obvs, failing. Sigh.
Anyway, the girl on the phone asks me if I can "retrieve" it. And, well, TECHNICALLY: yes, I can. But you may recall that I was not feeling particularly charitable towards our buyers. It took me a few weeks to stop feeling... offended or something. Which I KNOW. STUPID. But GOD no, I did NOT want to show up at my old house and cheerfully inquire if they had my missing package?
[Tangent! When we moved into that house it was a brand new address - the builders built 4 townhouses on one lot. Therefore, new addresses. And our address was exactly the same, save one little letter, as this old lady who lived on the other side of the freeway. We got mail addressed to Ethel So and So and Ethel got OUR mail for at LEAST a year. And we saved it up for a few weeks (nothing important) and exchanged it every once in a while. And exchanged phone numbers! So we would know if anything WAS important! We were THOUGHTFUL!)
But we had changed all the addresses and the buyers had ALL of our info (while giving us NONE of their info) and I felt like, well, if they have something important of ours they will let us know. I was happy with this scenario. And I can be very DRAMATIC, and my five dollar tank tops weren't worth the emotional fallout of showing up on my old house's doorstep and having to talk to the buyers. GAH!
(I know you are rolling your eyes, but I! Don't! Care!)
Phillip thought this was the dumbest thing he had ever heard and all the things YOU want to say to me HE said to me and WAS I REALLY SERIOUS and there was MUCH fretting over, I don't know, huge credit card bills we weren't receiving or something (EVEN THOUGH WE CHANGED THE ADDRESSES AND EVERYTHING WAS FINE.)
So I attempt to convey this to the BR girl in, like, two sentences and she says, "Well, I can send you a replacement order, but half of those items are no longer in stock." And I say, oh, that's okay, never mind and THEN she says that they will REFUND ME. For an order shipped to a wrong address that I supplied and that I won't go pick up. BECAUSE I AM A WUSS. They are refunding me DESPITE the stupidity and wussiness. At this point I start to think BR is the greatest company on earth.
FAAAAAAAST forward to another several weeks ago when Phillip decides, of his own accord, to show up unannounced at our old house and see if we have any mail. (I was not with him. AS IF.) And wouldn't you know! We had a HUUUUUGE stack of mail! Including my package! That apparently was just going to sit in the entry way until we sucked it up and demanded it back! WHATEVER! Anyway, there was absolutely nothing of any importance in that stack, except my order. And I thought, hey, why not, I'll see if I like these cheapo tank tops.
And oh, I did. Hawaii here I come.
So then I started to feel guilty. Because, you know, I was REFUNDED. For things I KEPT. I wrote myself a little "Call BR!" note and I only got around to it TODAY. I've worn the bright blue yoga pants at LEAST ten times by now. The guilt, it was festering.
I called BR this morning and talked to a very nice girl named Heather and attempted to explain my (stupid, wussy) situation. Good customer service rep that she is, she never once accused me of being stupid and/or wussy, which I appreciated, but she also had no idea how to accept my money. That's correct. NO CLUE.
I sat on the phone with Heather for a good fifteen to twenty minutes while she tried to hunt down supervisors and troubleshoot and we talked about Hawaii and whether it was sunny where I am (no) or where she is (yes) and blah blah blah and she never figured it out. I am all, "Have credit card, will give you number" and she is all, "But if I take your money, we'll automatically send out another order!"
[Tangent! Having been the designer, builder and operator of several databasey computer systems in my day, I have sympathy for this particular issue. You design your system to do one thing, not all things. I get it. HOWEVER. It STILL seems a little ridiculous that BR couldn't figure out HOW TO TAKE MY MONEY.]
And you know what the solution was? I will paraphrase Heather:
"Okay! So you could buy a prepaid mailing label, send it back to us, let us know that you need to pay for it."
Obviously this was a little confusing since 1) this was weeks ago, the packaging is gone 2) I've WORN the items, multiple times and 3) wouldn't they just have to send them back? I kept saying I didn't understand and Heather kept saying she understood that I didn't understand and kept saying it slower and slower and slower and finally I caught on to the part where she says, "Now, it's UP TO YOU, but you COULD blah blah blah..."
And I said, very slowly, "OH. I think I know what you are saying."
And she says, "Yes. Well. I can't really SAY it."
And I said, "Okay, well..."
And she said, "Just so you know, we do a one time courtesy refund or resend, so if you don't send it back - AND IT'S UP TO YOU - you might not get your courtesy refund again."
And I said, "I see."
And she said, "So you just decide what you want to do and let us know!"
I feel sort of... FOILED. I mean, so much for THAT. On one hand I'm sorely disappointed with myself for not having had the foresight to buy a couple of snazzy dresses from Banana Republic instead of five dollar tank tops from Old Navy. On the other hand: REALLY? This has never happened before? (She said that, although I'm sure she's referring to HER experience, not BR's entire experience.) And THAT'S the policy? Because it was clearly The Policy as recommended by her supervisors, not something she came up with on her own. And now I STILL feel guilty because I COULD package them all up and do this ridiculous (RIDICULOUS!) refund/resend thing so that it's all correct in their SYSTEM (although honestly, even that doesn't make sense to me) but SERIOUSLY? I have better things to do with my time (see: write blog posts on retail injustice).