Adventures with Sears

Saturday we went to look at vacuum cleaners. I know, exciting stuff. Our current Hoover has seen better days, I think the belt broke for one, plus the replacement bags are so dadgum expensive! Not to mention it has several different filters that need replacement every now and again.

So we had borrowed our mother-in-law’s new Dyson a few months back and we were really impressed. Anything that can get Dalmatian hairs out of a couch is all right in my book. I think those hairs have little fish hook barbs on them!

So we were thinking of getting one of those cyclonic bagless vacuums. Not the Dyson specifically, those things are expensive! So I did a little research and found a site that said one of the Sears Kenmore cyclonics was as good as a Dyson, but much cheaper.

Unfortunately, I forgot to write down the model number.

So there we are at the Sears, looking at all the models of vacuum cleaners. Bag. Bagless. Cyclonic. Some of them are heavy! They must be made in China because they feel like they’re filled with lead. And at this point I’m just guessing which one is the Kenmore I read about.

Finally, after an eternity, the sales clerk comes by. Don’t they get paid by commission? She asks what we’re looking for and I say, “A vacuum cleaner?” Duh. I mean, that’s why were staring at the vacuum cleaners, right?

OK, I let the snide comment hover in the air for a minute before I said, one of those cyclonic things, but something cheaper. I thought I read that one of the Kenmores. . .

“The Kenmores are crap.” OK, so she didn’t say crap, but essentially that was the gist of it. I looked around to make sure we were in a Sears. Why not sell us the Kenmore? Isn’t that their brand?

Anyway, she points out a couple of other vacuums, I think it was either the Bissel or Eureka. I mentioned we had pets and we had liked the Dyson’s ability to clean pet hair. She proceeded to point out what was wrong with the Bissel and Eureka compared to the Dyson. At this point, I realized they were hawking Dysons.

Anyway, she convinced us. Dysons don’t need filters, you just rinse out the thing that’s in there. Dyson belts last forever, or something like that. Dysons have one of the longest warranties at 5 years.

And really, we knew they worked because we had tried one. So although usually when I buy things, I go cheap because that’s how I am. It sometimes bites me in the ass because cheap breaks and then you have to replace it right away. This time we figured, why not? Go for the gold. Buy the best and maybe, just maybe it’ll last.

But that’s not the end of the story; it’s only the preliminary to what I wanted to rant about. She told us the vacuum wasn’t in stock, but it would be in on Wednesday. “You can pick it up on Wednesday,” is what she said.

She didn’t say call ahead. Or that they’d call me. She said, “You can pick it up on Wednesday.”

So Wednesday, yesterday, rolls around and we drive out there all excited about the new vacuum cleaner. (Yes, I need a life.) We get there to the pick up area and there are no human beings there any more. The Pick Up Window is now a blank wall. Nothing that even remotely resembled customer service.

Oh, wait, welcome to the future: A computer terminal. Press pickup on the screen, scan the receipt, and the machine says, “Your product will be available on the date shown and you’ll receive a phone call.”

Well, the date was today, or yesterday rather. May 14th. I look around, not sure what to expect, maybe a smiling human being willing to help. Nothing. So I try it again. Same response. So now I’m angry. TODAY is May 14th, that means it’s ready!

So I walk through the shipping doors, grab a guy in a Sears jumpsuit, and hand him the receipt. “I’m here to pick this up.”

He points at the terminal. “What did the terminal say?”

“The terminal said it will be ready to pick up today.”

He rolled his eyes and seemed upset that I was actually making him do his job, then he disappeared into the “Employees Only” door.

After several minutes, in which he probably had a cigarette and a cup of coffee while playing a game of sheep’s head, he came back and said, “We get a shipment tomorrow. Call after 10am.”

Now we’re mad. We just wasted gas at $4 a gallon to drive out to Sears because the lady didn’t say, “Call ahead” or “We’ll call you,” but said an affirmative, without a doubt, “You can pick it up on Wednesday.”

Bastards.

So now I’m on the phone with them to see if it came in. The guy sounds so thrilled. I wonder if I woke him from his morning nap? He should try the coffee.

Then he gets back on the line, after maybe having that cup of coffee, but he still sounds tired and says, “Unfortunately, due to a. . . um, Due to an unfortunate um thing,” go on, “It was put on an extra truck that just came in. It should be ready tomorrow.”

Asshats.

Now I’m playing phone tag with my freakin’ vacuum cleaner.

C’mon, people! I’ve got dog hair piling up under the couch!

-30-

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10 thoughts on “Adventures with Sears

  1. Oh yeah, the automatic pickup thingie – I stood and stared at that thing for ten minutes, dumbfounded, the first time I saw it.

    My Big Sears Moment happened several years ago when my sister and I stopped in to pick up a gallon of paint. This was before people started going to Home Depot and Lowes for paint – we all got it at Sears. So we go in there, tell his pimple-faced kid we need a gallon of this yellow, he mixes it, then carries it to the counter, sets it down, and stares at us.

    We stare back, waiting, me with check in hand. It was the last check in my checkbook, but I knew I just needed that one thing so I didn’t bring more.

    He’s staring, saying nothing.

    Finally I glared at him and say “Well?”

    Then he says “Did you want to buy it?”

    ?WTF? “Um, duh. Yes!”

    “Oh, well our registers are down, so I can’t sell it to you.”

    WHAT THE FVCK? I blew a gasket, and told him that even that kid walking by could take out a pad and pencil, figure out the tax, write me a receipt and sell me this can of paint.

    After hemming and hawing, pretending to look for a pad of paper, he suddenly starts to laugh and says he was joking, the registers work just fine.

    Now I was steaming. He rings it up, and three seperate times calls it a “can of red paint”.

    Yellow, I correct. “Right, one can of red paint.”

    Asswipe thinks he’s funny. He tells me a price, I fill out my check.

    “That’s not your total,” he says. “That’s just the price of the paint. Now I have to add tax.”

    I started yelling, loudly, for a manager. When a man in a suit came, I was red-faced and shouting. People in line behind me were agreeing, also angry at the delay and the brat who thinks this was all such a fun joke to pull on two women in a hurry.

    Long story short – he was fired on the spot, the paint was free, and I don’t shop at Sears anymore.

  2. Oh yeah, the automatic pickup thingie – I stood and stared at that thing for ten minutes, dumbfounded, the first time I saw it.My Big Sears Moment happened several years ago when my sister and I stopped in to pick up a gallon of paint. This was before people started going to Home Depot and Lowes for paint – we all got it at Sears. So we go in there, tell his pimple-faced kid we need a gallon of this yellow, he mixes it, then carries it to the counter, sets it down, and stares at us.We stare back, waiting, me with check in hand. It was the last check in my checkbook, but I knew I just needed that one thing so I didn’t bring more.He’s staring, saying nothing.Finally I glared at him and say “Well?”Then he says “Did you want to buy it?”?WTF? “Um, duh. Yes!”“Oh, well our registers are down, so I can’t sell it to you.”WHAT THE FVCK? I blew a gasket, and told him that even that kid walking by could take out a pad and pencil, figure out the tax, write me a receipt and sell me this can of paint.After hemming and hawing, pretending to look for a pad of paper, he suddenly starts to laugh and says he was joking, the registers work just fine.Now I was steaming. He rings it up, and three seperate times calls it a “can of red paint”.Yellow, I correct. “Right, one can of red paint.”Asswipe thinks he’s funny. He tells me a price, I fill out my check.“That’s not your total,” he says. “That’s just the price of the paint. Now I have to add tax.”I started yelling, loudly, for a manager. When a man in a suit came, I was red-faced and shouting. People in line behind me were agreeing, also angry at the delay and the brat who thinks this was all such a fun joke to pull on two women in a hurry.Long story short – he was fired on the spot, the paint was free, and I don’t shop at Sears anymore.

  3. Wow, what a dickweed. The manager should have done one of those “bum’s rush” things by grabbing him by the collar and the pants and kicking his ass as he headed him out the door!

    *sighs* No one gets the bum’s rush any more.

  4. Wow, what a dickweed. The manager should have done one of those “bum’s rush” things by grabbing him by the collar and the pants and kicking his ass as he headed him out the door!*sighs* No one gets the bum’s rush any more.

  5. OMG and Oh Thank God, we don’t have an automatic pickup thing here in the UK – I’d go insane.

    Do yours come ready made?

    We bought a new vacuum a couple of months ago that came as a flat pack (okay not quite flat, but you know what I mean – I hope) and I’m sure I’ve done something wrong in constructing it as when you’re downwind of the thing it tries to suck you up and ignores the dust.

  6. OMG and Oh Thank God, we don’t have an automatic pickup thing here in the UK – I’d go insane.Do yours come ready made? We bought a new vacuum a couple of months ago that came as a flat pack (okay not quite flat, but you know what I mean – I hope) and I’m sure I’ve done something wrong in constructing it as when you’re downwind of the thing it tries to suck you up and ignores the dust.

  7. Geez, I hope it’s fully built from the factory and all I have to do is open the box. I’m not good at constructing things. I don’t follow those directions very well. You’d think I’d understand them since I tend to write them for my job, but I don’t. They confuse the hell out of. “Insert Tab A into slot B?” What? There is no freakin’ slot B!

  8. Geez, I hope it’s fully built from the factory and all I have to do is open the box. I’m not good at constructing things. I don’t follow those directions very well. You’d think I’d understand them since I tend to write them for my job, but I don’t. They confuse the hell out of. “Insert Tab A into slot B?” What? There is no freakin’ slot B!

  9. Are you sure you don’t really live in Mexico? Sadly, that’s how everything here works. The first two dates they give you aren’t the REAL dates, it’s the third. And then YOU have to find the warehouse and get it yourself. In Spanish.

    Please let us know when it finally arrives!

  10. Are you sure you don’t really live in Mexico? Sadly, that’s how everything here works. The first two dates they give you aren’t the REAL dates, it’s the third. And then YOU have to find the warehouse and get it yourself. In Spanish.Please let us know when it finally arrives!

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