IKEA and I had a brief, torrid affair. Now it’s over. I am sad.
It all started with a love seat.
The best part of the couch: the price $399. How fabulous is that?! I was in sofa lust. It was gonna be all mine… until I tried to order it online.
Yes, I’m basically cheap, but I am not a woman without pluck. I had another idea. There’s a store right outside Dallas in Frisco. I activated the bat signal, aka: Twitter.
So I called the Frisco store. I got a recording that due to “technical difficulties” they could not ANSWER THE PHONE! But don’t worry. There’s a national toll-free number to call. They could help me. I called that number. The following is a paraphrase of that conversation.
Me: Here’s what I want to do… [credit card, friend pick up, blah blah, blah]
IKEA woman: We don’t take credit cards over the phone.
Me: OK. I understand that. Can I enter my information online and have it “delivered” to the store in Frisco with instructions for who can pick it up?
IKEA woman: We don’t do that either.
Me: Is there any way you can help me here?
IKEA woman: No.
Me: Well, ok then. I guess that’s all.
IKEA woman, obviously reading her script: Thank you for calling IKEA. Is there anything else I can help you with today?
Me: Well, you haven’t actually helped me with anything yet, so I guess not.
IKEA woman, very chipper now: Ok, have a nice day!
Feeling very frustrated, I vented online.
Then suddenly, it was like IKEA wanted to help me. They cared about customer service!
So I sent them an email right away outlining my issue and asking for some kind of flexibility or help. Then they proceeded to the LEAST helpful thing a help desk can:
The upshot: I’m not getting my orange love seat from IKEA. I may not get an orange one now at all. It would just be too painful. Somehow Baby Daddy doesn’t seem nearly as broken up as I am over this.