Monday, March 10, 2008

Getting taken to the cleaners

OK.

So I used to have my clothes dry-cleaned a lot, back when I had a paycheck-dispensing job. Lawyer. Suits and blazers and all that jazz. Well, since moving here I haven't set foot in a dry cleaning establishment, because mostly I've worn jeans, sweats, shorts, and yoga pants. But, I've put in for a few posted jobs over the past few weeks and I'm now hopeful that I'll snag an interview one of these days. So, in addition to making a relatively rare hair appointment last weekend, I also took a bunch of stuff in last week to be dry-cleaned. Local mom-and-pop type establishment, which is what I like to patronize when location and budget permit.

So I go today to pick everything up. I brought in a child's wool coat, two skirts, a pair of slacks, and my black wool coat. A reasonably nice coat. My other overcoats are all either very casual parkas or the one that's really my favorite, a wild faux leopard print. You have no idea how many polyesters were killed to make that thing. Very groovy. But really, a little too groovy to wear to a lawyer job interview. For that I want my nice, conservative black coat.

Anyway, I get home, and I unwrap everything--and discover that I have the wrong overcoat. Everything else is right--skirts, slacks, kid's coat. But my 3/4 length coat has been replaced with a nearly full-length coat, in a size 4. I have not worn a size 4 since before puberty. Which for the record was a pretty long time ago. The only person in our house who wears a size 4 anything is Thalia, and she wears a size 4T, because she's actually, well, 4. Anyway.

So, I call up. Honest mistake. Happens. I'm not too happy about it, but I figure hey, maybe somebody else has noticed they're missing a coat. I explained that somebody mixed up the coats, because I now have in my possession a coat I don't own, instead of the one I do. The guy on the phone claims that this is impossible. He kind of starts arguing with me, in fact. He goes to get my slip. And then he runs down that I brought in two coats. Yes--mine and a child's coat. And I got two coats back, but one of them is wrong. Well, that's impossible because when things come in blahblahblah. At this point I'm kind of starting to get steamed, because he's accusing me of either lying or hallucinating. Look, Bozo, don't tell me that this is impossible because IT HAPPENED.

So, still disbelieving, he says, "well, I'll check it out and I'll call you back." This was about 4:10 this afternoon. Show of hands of who thinks I ever got a phone call back? Exactly. No phone call. I just find this insulting. It's one thing if a business screws up and apologizes and at least tries to make it right. I don't love when mistakes hurt me, but mistakes happen. But it's quite another thing if they screw up and then argue with you about it. Chris went online tonight after all this, too, and checked with the Better Business Bureau. Apparently this place has an "unsatisfactory" rating, due to lack of response to complaints. Wish I'd known that beforehand.

Goddammit, he's screwing with a lawyer. Does he not read newspapers? I could get a thirty million dollar verdict out of this!!!! Heh. No, really, that's not what I want. I just want my coat back. And I want the rightful owner of really a pretty attractive size-4 coat that I could never wear to get her coat back, too.

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