Adventures in the living room

Recently the hubby and I purchased a new couch and matching side chair.  But nothing is ever as simple as that, is it?

Initially we were told our new furniture would be delivered on a Tuesday sometime between 7:10 and 10:10 am.  In actuality, the delivery guys didn't show up until almost 8.  PM.  In case you're wondering, then yes,my husband did indeed wait around for over 12 hours. 

Ours was scheduled to be the first delivery of the day, though somewhere along the line the couch got unloaded and put onto another van.  It then went, among many other places, to the town of Peabody.  "How far away is that?"  Hubby asked the operator, who answered, "I have no idea...I live in Connecticut!!"

That couch went on a veritable joyride through the state of Massachusetts.  And when it finally made its way into Boston, the driver of the truck had to call Hubby for directions.  For whatever reason his GPS couldn't find our street.  After several phone calls, Hubby eventually asked the driver how he was spelling our address.  (For the record...wrong.  That's how he was spelling it.)  Guess he didn't think to check the delivery slip, which naturally had our full addresses typed out clearly.

I got home from work around 7 and was greeted by my patient, beautiful husband, who was standing on the side of the road looking like he was ready to commit murder.  He'd been on his cell phone all day, giving directions, inquiring, pleading, and waiting, waiting, waiting... 

"THERE THEY ARE!!!!"  he exclaimed; a desperate, maniacal note in his voice.  Helplessly, we both stared down the road and watched feebly as the Bob's van drove past in the complete opposite direction.  No!!

When they finally did find us, after two more phone calls mind you, naturally they couldn't get the couch inside.  This was amateur hour, folks.  "Can I use your phone?"  Delivery dude #1 inquired, before putting Hubby on the phone and leaving shortly after.  It was only then that we noticed the nail sticking out of the ottoman and the tear on the chair.  The woman on the phone apologized and promised to send over a replacement. 

We were standing by.  (By this point we were elated to have anything to sit on, jutting nails and all.)

Let's try this again, shall we?  A few days later, Hubby waited around for the new swap out to arrive.  And when it did?  Same tear.  Different chair.

No!  Surely not!

Hubby was beside himself.  I was beside myself.  This time around, we were promised that next time a manager would carefully inspect our furniture before allowing it to be loaded onto a van. 

Third time's a charm. 

They graciously waived the $99 delivery fee, after much verbal ping ponging with customer service.  (I think my husband and I may have imploded had they not.)

After all the rigmarole, Kittie seems to think our new side chair was purchased solely for her own leisure purposes.  That sounds about right.

XOXO

Comments

[Sissy]

I love when Kittie sits like a human...

[Amy]

Is Kittie watching Sunset Tan?

[Sissy]

Perhaps the Two Coreys?

[Weinerdog]

Well, the wait was worth it, it's the most comfy couch I've ever slept on!

[Jenn McLellan-Raskow]

I just love your stories...I also love kitty...enjoy your new chair kitty....:)