I have learned many lessons in my life, but none as important as this: Never purchase furniture online whilst drunk at 1 am on a Sunday night. (Don't judge me.) I can assert this with a good amount of certainty after Kathy Ireland ruined everything. Yes, THAT Kathy Ireland. Allow me to explain.
Aspired to purchase an actual piece of furniture in my apartment that didn't have to be assembled by my hand with an allen wrench, I decided to shop around online for a desk and hutch combo for my random front room that is either an ill-placed dining room or an office with a chandelier.
Not one to pass up an online sale that involves canvassing the world wide web for secret coupon codes, I found a seriously nice one... at Sears. Oddly enough, it was "designed" by supermodel Kathy Ireland. I figured Cindy Crawford makes furniture, too, and Jessica Simpson, for that matter, makes more money off of her merch than Jesus, so why lest I judge them?
I order it. I put in my sick, gigbillion-percent-off coupon codes, and I realize this thing, carved from a California redwood, weighs 100 pounds. Sure, no one can steal it from the UPS guy with ease now, but I certainly can't drag it up a flight of stairs, either. So, my recourse was my parents'. I'd bribe my brother with a cool pint of foamy Guinness to bring it over.
Upon receiving my shipping notification in a less tired and more sober state, I realized I had not gotten a clutch deal on a hutch and a desk, but just a hutch. (a.k.a A glorified bookshelf that is fiercely dependent upon resting itself upon a DESK.) FML, indeed. Determined to make it work, I decided I'd find a cheap desk to match it, and move on.
Segue to the arrival. I open the box to make lugging it up the stairs a less suicidal experience, and realize that this bitch has been dropped more times than, uh... You know, it was dropped a lot. It's smashed, it's stained; it's a hot mess. So, I call to complain.
"No, I don't have the box."
"No, I can't just leave it in the lobby."
"No, I don't want another one."
So, as instructed, I write the return address on the box and leave it downstairs. It sits there for a week. I call again...
"I was supposed to print what e-mail out?"
"What list?"
"No, no one's come to get it."
"No, I don't want another one."
I await another e-mail. It never comes. I call ... again. This time, not so cool and collected.
"No, I don't want free shipping the next time!"
"Yes, I checked my junk mail box!"
"Yes, I will preach high and low to never purchase anything from Sears.com ever again! And, yes, I did just scream that out the window! ...One!"
"No, I am not excited to wait another seven days!"
Having given up on humanity as a whole and just wishing this dumb thing would get stolen already, I finally receive an e-mail.
"We've received and processed your return. Your purchase price has been refunded. Thank you!"
I run downstairs in disbelief, like a child on Christmas morning. Yup. Still there. Perplexed, I receive another e-mail.
"We requested a call tag from the vendor, and since the item is damaged, they requested that you dispose of it."
Seriously? Seriously. I pour a drink and call my little brother, a McGuyver among young men. "Yo. You want a Kathy Ireland hutch? ...A HUTCH. It's like a giant shelf thing. Yeah. It's expensive. And made out of like, rich mahogany." Thanks to Sears' errors, my brother now owns a dope Kathy Ireland soap box derby car.Miracles CAN happen, people.
More fun posts can be found on Caitlin's site WhiterThanYouriPod.com. If you'd like to write about something just email me and you might be the next Summer Friday blogger!
Related Things:
- Read all the Summer Friday entries