Customer Service

On Thursday, I saw an ad for an i-pod accessory that Bard has been wanting. It was on sale--one day only--at Kohl's. The price was exceptional, and the ad made it clear that the sale was good on in-stock items only--no special orders, no rain checks. There was also an additional discount--15% off--for senior citizens, so I talked my dad--who is befittingly old--into riding to Neighboring City with me to get the extra amount off. This, in itself, was a miracle.

Not wanting to mess up this good thing and being the wise shopper I am, I called ahead to ask if the item was indeed in stock. Travis, the young man who answered the phone, sounded less-than-enthused that he had to walk ALL THE WAY to the other end of his department to check. What a drag it is to be required to do one's job.

"Just a minute," he droned.

When he came back on the phone, Travis said, "Is it round?" I looked at the photo ad of the transistor-radio-like unit and tried to imagine what Travis's definition of "round" could possibly encompass. There was nothing about the item in this photo that I would describe as "round."

"No," I said, "it's not round. It's rectangular. It looks to be about 12-18" long, though it's hard to tell from the picture."

"But it's not round?" He repeated. Round? I said it was a rectangle. How can a rectangle be round?

"Uh. No. It's not. It's rectangular. It's long, and the i-pod is inserted in the middle, between the two speakers. It's not in the shape of a circle, if that's what you're asking me. Circles are round. This is definitely rectangular."

"Oh. Okay."

Long pause.

"Well, do you have a model number?" He asked.

"No. No model number. There's none given in the ad. Just the description that's on the front page of the flier."

"What does the description say?" I read it to him, and described the photo again.

As if he suddenly had an epiphany or a geometry lesson, he unconvincingly uttered, "Yeah. Yeah, this is it."

I paused. "Are you...are you sure? Because I'm driving forty minutes from Little Village for this item, and this item only. I'm making a special trip, and I want to be sure you have this specific item in stock."

"Yeah. Yeah. I'm sure this is it."

Just because I've been burned before, I asked him to please confirm for me the price of the product. I knew he wouldn't be pleased with his mission, but I meant business. And it was, after all, his business to do business with me.

"Hold on," Travis said, and I could just imagine him rolling his eyes as he set down the phone and trudged ALL THE WAY to the other end of his department to check the item that he had lead me to believe was in his hands.

Minutes later, he returned. "49.95," he sighed.

"Yes! Great! That's the one. Are there more than one?" I asked, imagining a virtual torrent of i-pod accessory buyers flocking to Kohl's for this one-day-only event.

"Yeah. There's a bunch of 'em," Travis said.

"Thank you so much!"

I hung up the phone, packed the kids and my age-appropriate, Golden Buckeye Card-carrying dad into the car, and drove to Neighboring City as quickly as allowed by law. Once at Kohl's, we headed straight to the proper department where I found...

...nothing at all that looked like or was priced the same as the photo in the ad.

There were plenty of units that were much smaller, much larger, and much more expensive, but there were none even remotely the type or the price of the one I'd seen in the ad. The one I'd driven there to purchase. The one Travis had assured me was in stock.

I rang the bell for assistance, was almost instantly greeted by a Nice Young Woman, and showed her the ad, which I'd had the presence of mind to carry along with me in the same plastic baggie as my dad's Golden Buckeye Card.

"Oh, those? We haven't had those in this store for weeks," the Nice Young Woman nonchalantly informed me.

"You...you what?"

"Maybe you'd like to look at one of the other units we have in stock?"

WHAT?!?

After explaining to this Nice Young Woman that I had just spoken to Travis less than an hour prior, that Travis had told me that there were several in stock, and that Travis had confirmed that they were $49.95, she stood silently for a moment. She then headed over to the telephone and called, I'm assuming, Travis, who told her, I'm assuming, that he saw them on the end of the rack. She spoke in hushed tones and then hung up the phone. She then showed me said "end of the rack." There were no units on the "end of the rack" that looked like the one in the ad. There were no units on the "end of the rack" that were priced like the one in the ad. There were many units that were clearly marked, on their boxes, $99.95 and $119.95, and $199.95, but no units marked $49.95. There was, however, a sign above the units that indicated that, at one time there had been, or were supposed to be, units that were, indeed, $49.95.

Travis, however, was nowhere to be seen.

I explained, very politely but very firmly, that I had called ahead and spoken to Travis in order to avoid this very scenario. Travis had assured me that he understood that I was driving 40 minutes to purchase this *particular* $49.95 unit, and he also assured me that, though it was not at all round, it was absolutely, totally, and positively in stock.

The Nice Young Woman called for her manager. I walked around the rack again to be sure that there was no mistake. The Nice Young Woman rejoined us. My dad, who had been not-so-patiently waiting, was repeatedly dropping very heavy hints that we should get a more expensive unit for the same price as the one in the ad, for all of our troubles. The Nice Young Woman smiled politely and repeated that her manager was on her way.

Sure enough, several minutes later, said manager appeared, carrying under her arm the very unit that Travis had assured me was on the rack, that the Nice Young Woman has assured me had been out-of-stock for weeks. I recognized the non-round product immediately as she approached.

"Oh, THANK you," I said to the manager. "Thank you SO much." And then, for some very inexplicable reason, I asked, "Where did you find it?"

The manager, whose face had a look similar to the sound Travis' voice had had, paused briefly and said, as if I should have known the answer to such a ridiculous question, "We don't keep these out. It was locked in The Cage."

I knitted my brows.

That made no sense to me whatsoever.

They had smaller units that were more expensive. They had items that were so small that they could fit quite easily into a person's pocket. And these, the units that were advertised on the front page of their sales flier, were locked in The Cage?

Can you say, "Bait and switch?"

I took the unit from her and noticed that she had a sales flier in her hand. It then occured to me to wonder why Travis had to ask *me* to read what was written on the sales flier, why he had to ask *me* to describe the photo of the item and inform him that it wasn't round. After all, wasn't he there, at the store, where the sales fliers must be floating around like detritus after a thunderstorm?

As I was walking away, I heard the manager whisper to the Nice Young Woman, "Restock a few of those on the end of the rack."

Locked up in The Cage, my arse.

My dad lingered behind and laughed to the manager, "I guess this means that Travis doesn't lose his job?" He was joking, of course, but the manager wasn't laughing.

"No, of course not," she shot back. "He's one of my best."