Welcome back to another edition of things that vex me, the place where we rant, rave, moan, groan, and complain about all the things, big or small, that vex us in life.
Last time it was Unpredictable Weather, this time it is the turn of Argos deliveries the clueless, useless, most hopeless deliveries in the universe.
OK so a few weeks ago we ordered a new microwave, the old one was broken and microwaves are great for cooking when you want to be lazy.
We went on to the Argos website, found a decent looking microwave for a reasonable price, ordered it and paid for home delivery because who really wants to carry a microwave on the bus? They are heavy and bulky.
It was meant to arrive a couple of days later, which is fine as we weren’t really in a rush for it and I think you already know where this is going.
On the day it was due to arrive we sat in waiting for it. Then we waited some more. Followed by even more waiting. After that came some more waiting, dinner, and some more waiting. Next thing you know it’s the next day and the microwave hasn’t arrived.
You start thinking did you get the day’s muddled up? You wonder did you click confirm? Then you start to question whether you actually even ordered a microwave before you begin to question the very nature of microwaves themselves. Do they exist? Did I just dream these fantastic inventions? If so how do I go about making them and getting a patent? Am I even real?
A quick glance at your e-mail answers a great many of those questions, you did in fact order a microwave, you did click confirm, and you didn’t get the day’s muddled up. However the question on the nature of the self and whether or not you are real sadly cannot be answering by glancing at your e-mail.
Now you have to phone them up and say ‘oi where’s my microwave’ and answer a thousand and one questions just so they will confirm that you did in fact order a microwave and that they did fail to deliver it when you paid for it to be delivered. You get a couple of sorry’s and they offer to deliver it that night (which was a Friday night!) between 7pm and 10pm. It’s not ideal but you want this over as soon as possible so you agree.
You then sit at home all night jumping up and looking out the window every time you hear a car outside in the hope that it’s them with the microwave. Nope just someone arriving home.
10pm rolls around and there’s no sign of them, you are left hoping that they are stuck in traffic. Then 11pm comes and unless it is a suspiciously late and long traffic jam they aren’t coming. Eventually you get fed up and head to bed to mentally prepare yourself for phoning them again tomorrow.
The call goes exactly the same as it did yesterday, although they do refund the delivery charge after a bit of moaning while acting like they did you this massive favour. Er no, I didn’t get what I paid for. Once again they promise that same magical delivery slot of between 7pm and 10pm. Yeah between 7pm and 10pm on a Saturday night. I already missed out on Friday night because of you useless gits, now I have to miss Saturday night as well? But then you think fine whatever let’s just get this over with so I never have to deal with you again.
7pm comes by and you position yourself so that you can hear the front door should it go. You know it won’t but a tiny part of you hopes. 8pm and nothing. Still nothing at 9pm. 10pm comes and you are restless, pacing up and down, pulling your hair out, how hard can it be to deliver a bloody microwave? And to think Argos have the nerve to try to charge people for this “service”. You turn to alcohol to try to calm your nerves only to end up drinking so much that you pass out. You wake up surrounded by beer cans, the phone mocking you, daring you to phone them and ask where this microwave is but then you remember it’s Sunday and decide to leave it until Monday.
Monday comes and by this point you could have gone to University, studied engineering, and have built your own microwave in the time it is taking Argos to deliver one to you, but then that would be accepting defeat and you can’t do that.
This time they ask if you can go into one of their stores and pick it up. Er no? There’s a reason you asked for it to be delivered. If you could have picked it up from one of their stupid little shops you would have done that to begin with! Seriously what kind of people are you hiring Argos? Do your jobs adverts say must lack any kind of common sense or intelligence? What a bloody stupid suggestion that is! And an insulting one as well.
They quickly learn they have poked a hornets nest and don’t push that idea any further, instead they swear, they promise that it will be delivered today and that they will follow the progress of the microwave throughout the day, phoning the delivery people to remind them to put it on the truck. Oh yeah that fills me with great confidence. Nice to know Argos employ such diligent delivery stuff that they need someone to phone them to remind them how to do their job.
‘Hey Tim what do I do with this? It has a name and address on’.
‘I dunno Chris. Just leave it in the corner and hopefully it’ll make its own way to where it needs to be’.
Stupid stupid stupid!
Eventually, towards the end of the day, the microwave finally shows up. Close to two weeks late.
It is honestly some of the worst service in the universe. Aliens that have never been to or heard of Earth before have heard how crap Argos are. But still Argos don’t care. They don’t care that you have had to phone them three times just chasing this up. They try to get you off the phone as soon as possible. It’s only with great reluctance that they refund the delivery charge but there’s no other kind of compensation for all your troubles only half-hearted apologies over the phone as the people on the other end sound bored and fed up that they have to talk to you and try to sort this out.
So to Argos I present to you the award for one of the worst, most useless, totally clueless companies in the universe. You have terrible customer service. You can’t even manage the simple task of delivering a microwave on time. Fuck you. Your award will arrive someday between the hours of go fuck yourself. Enjoy.
Oh and this isn’t the last story I have about how shit Argos are or how poor their customer service is, so there’s that to look forward to.
And I was doing so well trying not to swear as well.