Monday, April 19, 2010

Installment VI

While I was waiting for the boy's text message this afternoon, I had a call from The Brick. We'd been to a local store and ordered some furniture for him to be delivered to his apartment in TO.

Should have been simple, but when I hadn't heard from the TO store to arrange the delivery, I called the number the sales clerk here had given me.

It was indeed a number for a Brick outlet, but not the right one. They had no record of the order.

I called my sales clerk back. Turns out she hadn't faxed the order in properly.

The Toronto store and the Halifax store called me later to let me know that the sales clerk had forgotten to have me sign the invoice and asked me to go in.

Now, those three or four loyal readers will know that I no longer have a car. (Long story.) It would take me over an hour to travel to the store by bus. My son had a brainwave. Let's go to Kinkos and fax it over.

Great idea, son. Let's go.

We did. We got the confirmation of successful delivery. We paid. We walked back home.

The next day, I get another call from the Toronto office. They don't have the signed invoice. The Halifax store claims they didn't receive it.

I shlep back to Kinkos, refax, reconfirm, repay. I call the store to ensure they have received it. They have so I leave.

This afternoon I get a call from the Toronto store. Where's the signed invoice? the woman asks.

At the Halifax store I say aloud. This is not what I was saying with my inside voice.

Nope, she tells me. Hali says they don't have it.

They do, I insist. Please call them back.

She does. They do indeed have the invoice. The TO sales clerk explodes. My god, she says. How slow can they be there in Halifax? How long does it take to send a fax?

Welcome to my world, I want to say, but I don't. I've become so used to crappy service since moving here that I barely notice it anymore. The high blood pressure and spewing of vitriol wasn't worth it.

I'm really sorry for bothering you, she says. Delivery has been arranged with the landlady. Everything is right in the world.

Back to real time, I have just checked the virtual flight view monitor on the Halifax International Airport's website and my son's plane is now over Bangor, Maine.

He'll be home by midnight and then the real countdown begins.

Eight days till the move.

He won't know if he's made it into the film centre for two weeks.

Keep sending those good vibes, gentle readers.

And thank you.



  1. I have absolutely no patience for such poor customer service. You were much nicer that I would have been. After the first trip to Kinkos and they claim they didn't have the invoice I would have cancelled right then and there.
    Poor service is the reason I'm going with John next week to his oncologist he used to see (the good one). This other doctor he has been seeing (the bad one) waited 6 months to tell him he was no longer in remission and never faxed anything over to our primary care doc.
    So if someone wants my business, I expect good customer service. Sorry to rant. I hope you enjoy this next week with your son.

  2. hug hug hug, that's all I got.

  3. Cheryl: That's how I felt when I first moved here too. I was constantly in battle with service providers proving myself to be the ugly Upper Canadian they thought I was. (Although the term Upper Canada hasn't been in use in over 100 years, it's still used here disparagingly to name those from Ontario.) In the past seven years, however, the natives have worn me down.

    I am appalled at your oncologist's lack of care. Doing no harm surely means more than standing at the sidelines waiting for a patient to figure out his/her own diagnosis. And this is the system so many are fighting to maintain. (Take that, Sarah Palin!) Although, of course, stupidity and lack of concern are evident in any system.