Monday April 12th 2010
It’s been a week since I ordered from you a gift for my partner’s birthday (which is today). At 12.03 this morning you sent me an email gleefully stating that my order was on it’s way. Well, it’s 4.30pm now, 18 1/2 hours later and it’s still not here. Where is it?
Your colleague on the ‘customer service’ hotline told me the deliveries are made throughout business hours, however my partner’s birthday is almost over. Your man also told me that you only make specifically-timed deliveries in the case of funerals. Maybe I should have lied and told you she was dead, at least then she would have had a nice wreath to enjoy all day. Maybe I should have walked the half mile to the (Interflora) flower shop in the village and bought them myself this morning. But, stupidly, I wanted her to enjoy the little thrill of flowers delivered to the door.
I re-arranged the whole day so we wouldn’t miss the arrival of her present. What a mug. It doesn’t really matter if your man arrives now or not, the day’s as good as over. Thank you for ruining the day. Oh, and good luck in the recession.
Tuesday 13th April 2009
So, a day after my partner’s birthday, and a good week after I ordered her present from you, and still nothing has arrived. Not the planter, not the flowers, not a phone call offering either explanation or apology, not an email in reply to my complaint of yesterday. I suppose it’s too much to ask for my money back which you stole from me ? You are either crooks or amateurs, but more probably both.
Yours, completely and utterly cheesed off,
Tuesday April 13 (15.10hrs)
Finally some evidence of life in your company. Five minutes ago (3.05pm) your courier arrived at my door, carrying my order. Clearly confused, he asked if my name was Kate. I informed him, with all the dignity I could muster, that a) my name was not Kate; b) Kate wasn’t here today as her birthday was yesterday; and c) I no longer wanted the flowers and would not be signing for them. He left, looking even more confused, though no word of apology passed his lips. Is there no-one in your organisation (sic) who suffers from odd bouts of professionalism which might lend them to contacting me and saying sorry?
My phone is charged and turned on awaiting your call.
I don’t think they’re gonna call, do you ?
(My Reader will be staggered to learn the no phone call or email of apology was ever received. The Great British Service Industry lives on. MB)
You’re fooling no one Bealing, just admit you forgot.