The Continuing Saga of the Fucking Bed

I am so frustrated right now, that my head is actually tingling..BUT I decided that I am going to laugh about this and post on my Blog to ease the pain. The story is called...“The Continuing saga of the FUCKING BED”`

Lets start at the beginning. Once upon a time in a land about 2000 miles from here, a young lady decides to buy her very first BRAND NEW Queen SIZE bed. Not only is this a very grown up task for the once “daddies little girl”, but a very exciting adventure to be sleeping in a bed bigger then something found in an old ST.F.X dorm room. One fine sunny day, the girl ventures to the Bay with her roomies in tow, to pick out the new bed. Weeks later it’s delivered and our story really begins.

The bed is fine at first but after a few years, she notices a distinct sagging in the middle. Her parents would insist on commenting every time she mentioned the uncomfortable sleeps she was having. “Beds that have one person sleeping in them should NEVER sag that much.” Her first reaction being, geeze folks, thanks for the awknowledgement of the sleeping alone thing, and the second was shit no, that will be wayyy too much trouble. A few months go by and after many a sleepless night and pain in the neck, the girl decides to bite the bullet and roll the dice to try and have the mattress declared defective. First mistake!

After calling the big bad Bay…or the “HORRID place she will never shop in again” as it is now affectionately called, a tech is dispatched to her home to “assess” the bed. He arrives and is nice enough. Not cute, mind you (which sucks, because if you are gonna have a guy hanging out on your bed and checking its “cushion”, he definitely should be cute)! His only saving grace is that he was an Alumni from the girls almamater, so it’s all good. His assessment of the bed takes all of about 5 minutes, but little did the lovely lady know that the letter that would arrive WEEKS later would begin the biggest bout of frustration she ever had with a piece of furniture.

As I said, the letter, which at the time might as well have been lined with gold, arrived a few weeks later. The HORRID place she will never shop in again” has declared the mattress “DEFECTIVE” and have authorized you to pick out a new one in the value of 506.00. What a day!!

Unfortunately the nearest store was an hour away, so on the next available weekend, she makes the trip, ALONE (2nd MISTAKE) to Halifax to choose a new bed. “Shopping for new beds is so much fun”, she thought as she strolled through the mattress dept. Finally after 5 minutes she is approached by a salesmen. Now normally she would never make such a comment on a person, but after the mess that this asshole started he deserves it. This man was a loser of enormous proportions ladies and gentlemen, and we will call this loser DAVE, cause lets face it…that’s his name. In addition to the nervous twitches and sweaty brow, he had one of the worst and most uncomfortable laughs she had ever heard. The EF’s (Embarassed For’s) were out in full force that day let me tell ya. But after a few minutes a model was chosen. She gave him her golden letter and the process began. However, there was one small glitch in the system that day that should have been a red flag, the computers were down. “Oh, don’t worry” he says, I will hold it right here, and as soon as the computers come back up, I will process the order”. YEAH RIGHT (3rd MISTAKE) But the young lady returns home, happily waiting for the call to say the bed had arrived. She told all her friends and family that soon enough, the bed would come and no more sleepless nights. NOT!!!

5 WEEKS later, after never hearing from the “HORRID place she will never shop in again” she calls the dept. Sorry they said, you will have to call the BAY Aftercare # to see about the status, and here is their number. She calls, no answer, she leaves a message. Two days pass and still no answer, she calls again. This time she talks to a pleasant young girl who very candidly says “I have no record of an order”, “sorry you are going to have to call the store”. She calls the store and speaks to the same dismissive little jackass that gave her the Aftercare number. This time she gives him more detail about the fact that she has been waiting for her bed FOREVER. This time, JACKASS decides to check the system. “ HUMMM sorry ma’am I have no record of a purchase”. Aside from the cold shivers she gets from being called ma’am, at the same moment, her little heart began to break. “WHAT” she says, no bed, no order, but Dave said that he was going to order it WEEKS AGO. Oh Dave, he says sarchastically in a tone that many other jackasses have used in the past. Dave doesn’t work here anymore, he left weeks ago, I bet he never processed it. Her heart began to break a little more. Do you know the model number he asked, nooo she replied. Well unfortunately ma’am you are going to have to come back to the store, choose your bed and we will re-order it. She tries to remain calm, but lets face it, this SUCKS. However, having no choice in the matter, she returns to the city and goes through the process again. This time she brings her mom. They meet Mr jackass face to face, and proceed to pick out, and order again. Coinsedentially, the Computer is down AGAIN so he must wait and order the bed later. Now being someone who learns from her mistakes this time the girl decides to call “Grant” AKA Jackass the following day, to confirm the order. Smart girl, you are definitely learning.

With the bed ordered, she happily goes about her days, waiting for the call to say, the bed is in. 4 weeks later, she decides to call to check on the status. Jackass answers, “hello Jackass”, she says, has my bed arrived. Oh yes, he says, it came in last week, they didn’t call you. GRRR, slight grumbling, but she says no they didn’t, I will come pick it up. The young lady, whose enthusiasm is starting to teeter on insanity, calls super-dad who will arrange to borrow a truck to drive to the city, to pick up the bed.

On a lovely fall day, the 3 (super mom, super dad, and young lady) venture to the city, in the borrowed truck. After a momentary misdirection, they find the delivery center. NO BED. The interesting looking tattooed dude calls Jackass and asks where the bed is. The bed is in the SHOWROOM. WHOOPS, I have to go and get it he says. Twenty minutes later, tattoo dude arrives with the bed. Where is the defective mattress he says? Now despite her urge to tell him, that the bed resides somewhere the sun doesn’t shine, she decides to keep her cool and play dumb. Sorry? She says. Tattooed dude tells her that the work order says that she is supposed to bring the defective mattress back to the store. Now why the jackasses, and tattooed dudes want a defective mattress…no one will ever know. This being the first she heard of this, she asks to speak to the Jackass. Jackass confirms dude’s workorder. After a long pause Jackass tells the young lady that she can take the mattress home today, but will have to bring back the defective mattress in 2 days. NOT possible she says, SCREW IT, set up the $100.00 delivery. She bites her tonge and speews no profanity.. Three days later she gets a cheerful call from the delivery place, to let he know that her bed has arrives, and she can come to pick it up. COME PICK IT UP…she repeats, while standing alone in her apartment. Just hearing the words “you can come and pick it up, sends the once calm and centered girl into a tizzy” She calls. She explains to the idiot on the other end of the phone that her bed is supposed to be delivered, not picked up. Oh says the idiot, well I don’t handle that part of it, I will have to get back to you. 2 hours later, while adopting a “take charge” attitude, the young lady, calls back, not leaving ANYTHING to chance this time. The idiot explains that they are new to this service, and there is no problem with the bed. After trying to get her to explain exactly what that means, with no success, she simply asks “is my bed arriving on Thursday or what”. I have no reason to believe otherwise, the idiot says. The girl hangs up.

A family affair that evening has the young girl recalling the entire story and basically conceeding to the fact that the bed is NEVER COMING…so move on.

Surprisingly enough, a few days later the mattress finally arrives, BUT the FULL amount of the bed is charged to her credit card, with no mention of the credit for the defective mattress. At this, she starts to see red, and is no longer going to sit idly by and let this multi billion dollar bunch of assess push her around. She writes a letter, not just any letter, a nasty one. A letter that says that she will never again shop in their store, and she is disappointed, and this will SURE show them. Needless to say, there was no response.

Finally weeks later she gets a call from a call center in Montreal. Chris, the man on the message left on her machine, says that they are ready to credit the bed to her account, and how would she like this handled. The message gives a name and a phone number. UREKA she says, it’s FINALLY happening, it’s FINALLY OVER. The saga of the fucking bed is finally over. Not so much lovely girl, you still have to call him back!

This brings us to today, the beginning of the head tingling and the realisation that this saga, may never, ever end.

While picking up the phone and dialing the number to call Chris back, she is in quite a lovely mood and looks forward to the conversation with Chris, from Montreal. She calls. The operator answers. She explains why she is calling, and the operator has NO idea what she is talking about. She explains again. Sorry this is not the correct dept, one moment and I will transfer you. New operator. She explains again. The operator has no idea what she is talking about, this is the wrong number. Keeping her patience, the young lady explains the situation AGAIN, but the lady insists that this is not the right number, and here is her supervisor. The young girl hangs up. Calls again, same number different extension, this time the lady that answers the phone indicates, that this is the correct number, but that she called TO, and really she needs to talk to Montreal. This she knew, she knew Chris was calling from Montreal but had no sweet fucking clue how to get a hold of him. Finally, after several more calls and wrong extensions she has it, she has MONTREAL and low and behold she even found CHRIS. HOWEVER, the rude French speaking lady on the other end of the phone tells her that Chris is on lunch. The girl asks if maybe the rude French speaking lady might be able to help her. She tries to explain the situation. One moment, she says, but then comes back 5 minutes later and asks for the situation again, because apparently the first time she wasn’t listening, OR REALLY doesn’t understand English. Finally after 10 minutes of explaining, the mean French woman decides that Chris should really handle this, gets the young lady’s number and proceeds to HANG UP ON HER. At this point the frustration and head tingling is at an all time high. She decides to go home for the day and let it all rest, drink a diet coke and sit on her bed. The very bed that insighted all of this misery.

The phone rings. It’s Chris. A splendid gentlemen who calls her Mrs Wagg and explains how this entire situation was such a mix up and should never happen. By the end of the conversation, the credit is applied to her Bay card, her heart begins to mend and all is right in the universe. It’s over. Slightly anti-climatic, but over nonetheless. At this point she begins to reflect on the hilarity of the situation, the blunders, the phone calls, the crying (yes crying) and understands that this was an exercise in patience my friends, in keeping your cool and hoping against hope, in believing in the power of prayer...hahah Well maybe not as dramatic as all of that, but things DO happen for a reason. Whether it is to teach us a simple lesson of patience or to shop discount bargin basement, whatever the reason I’m glad, yes I’m glad its over.

Night Night