And now the thrilling (and by thrilling I mean somewhat less aggravating) conclusion to the Area Rug 51 Saga, Episode 5: We Won't Get Fooled Again!
Thursday, August 7th
As you may remember I was told by Suzanna at Wickes Furniture that I would receive a phone call on Tuesday when our rug came in from the warehouse. That way we could go out to the store and tell them that they finally got it right...you know, basically do their quality control for them. This is really like a self-service furniture store.
All day Tuesday, no call. All day Wednesday, no call. Thursday I finally call out to Wickes (doing their job yet again) and speak to Emily. I guarantee you that Emily is not allowed to do anything more than answer the phone. Why? Because she is friendly, helpful and knows what she's talking about. There is a very thick glass ceiling for those people.
"Yes, your rug is in," she said.
Thank you. We'll be in today to pick it up.
The whole drive up there I just got angrier and angrier thinking of all the ways we'd been put upon up to now. I was also trying to troubleshoot any of the new devilry they might be planning on unleashing on us. Apparently this rug is very important to them (clearly more important than repeat business) and they don't want it to leave the store under any circumstances. I began to think that even if, through some miraculous set of coincidences, we did come into possession of this rug they would still not stop tormenting us until we took the rug back to Mount Doom and dropped it into the fires that forged it.
When we got there I could feel my pulse rate start to climb. This place was making me physically uncomfortable.
You're gonna have to do all the talking, I told Jen. Knowing how routinely I'd dropped the term "clusterfuck" into conversations about this situation she agreed that that was probably our best course of action.
"We're here to pick up our rug," Jen said to the first sales vulture we met.
"Ok, just go to the sales counter in the back and talk to her."
Ok, this seems like it might be working. Fingers crossed.
"Hi, we're here to pick up a rug."
"Your name?"
"Jennifer Hughes."
The lady types Jen's name into the computer. At this point I think it would be useful to note that these computer are archaic. Have you ever had computer problems and had to restart your computer in safe mode? Safe mode, with the blue screen and the white numbered menus? That's what their sales tracking software looks like. And the computers? If Windows XP comes within 1000 yards of them their hard drives crash out of pure fright. OLD! It's no wonder they don't know where anything is from one moment to the next. They're all still living in 1987. Do you know what it's gonna take to get this rug to us? 1.21 jigawatts!
"Ok, the rug is in the back. You'll just need to pull your car around to the loading dock. If you pull out of the parking lot onto Kedzie, make a left and it's the first left down the street."
I'm guessing this is Emily.
We get to the loading dock and sign some papers. Then the dock worker gets the rug half way to our car before I can even ask him if we can see the rug. After everything that's gone before I am understandably skeptical.
"That's not our rug."
"It's not your rug?" The guy seemed genuinely surprised. Clearly the stories of the schmucks with the area rug hadn't made it to the docks yet.
We all went back inside and the dock worker went and checked some paper work in the office while I busied myself with creating new swear words. He comes back and looks at the other stock they have lying around, then goes back inside. He's gone for a long time. He comes back with different paperwork for us to sign and checks the stock one more time. And, God bless him, he finds our rug.
We throw it in the car and escape like bandits.
My precious
At home with his brethren
Epilogue
In the future, if I need furniture, I will not go back to Wickes. I will rely on the Amish. Or sit on the floor. Or craft crude shapes out of plywood, duct tape and happy thoughts. Hell, even sitting on a barbed wire love seat is going to be less painful than dealing with the incompetent empire that is Wickes Furniture.
Labels: Anger, Lost Post, Rug, Saga, Wickes Furniture
It's about time you realized that chicks named Emily know all the secrets. Yup, it's true. We know stuff. sometimes.
I found a picture of you the other day... dressed up as "God" (yes, it was from 'Love's Fire'...ugggh). But I realized it kind of looked more like Jerry Garcia instead. And for that, my dear friend, I thank YOU. :)
Hot rug.
Both trippy AND stylish!