Come on down!




I should have learnt my lesson. Although, to be fair, they haven’t been half as annoying this time as they were the first.

I wanted a new TV table. Yeah. New year and the fact that the old looks like a Disney drawer with its arse hanging out made me get my own arse into gear and down to the furniture shop. Finding a table I actually liked, and more to the point, would fit in my compact and bijou front room, I paid for it and then the Haggling For Delivery bit began.

This is where I should have remembered the last time I was shafted by this stage in the process. But no. I listened patiently to the man telling me that they could only deliver on Mondays, Wednesday and Fridays, and that it was between 10am and 2pm. I selected Monday 7th March and it was a done deal. I said that I had to have the old one taken away - he said no problem, and to remind the driver.

So Monday 7th comes. No ringy, no delivery. I’m due to start work at 2pm so I call up at 1pm and get treated like I’ve pissed on someone’s Christmas tree complete with pretty candles, handmade by their favourite niece and decorated with pictures of kittens:

*ring ring*
Voice: What?
Me: Hello?
Voice: Yes. What?
Me: Is this Pricerite?
Voice: Yes. What?
Me: Fine. I’m waiting for my TV table.
Voice: Yes.
Me: It should be today, between 10 and 2. It’s 1pm. If they come now I can still receive it.
Voice: Yes.
Me: So where is it?
Voice: Number?
Me: Pardon?
Voice: You give me number.
Me: The order number?
Voice: Phone number! You tell your phone number me!
Me: DON’T SHOUT. 69xx-xxxx.
Voice: Wait.
Me: Make it quick.
*busy tone*

*still*

Voice: Not today-ah.
Me: Pardon?
Voice: Not today.
Me: Yes today. 7th March.
Voice: 14 Mar. You wait 14 Mar.
Me: Why does my paper say 7th March?
Voice: I don’t know.
*click*
*brr…*


Skip to Thursday. Yes, Thursday. I’m waiting at the bus stop on my way to work, and the phone rings. Yes, you’ve guessed it.

Voice: Hello Missy. Is Priceriy. Can bring you table now?”
Me: Pricerite? Sorry, no. Monday 14th March, morning, I was told.
Voice: Oh, sorry, because Monday all full. We bring today?
Me: Sorry, no. I cannot be at home. I’m at work.
Voice: Oh. This evening? 5pm?
Me: [*thinks* 5pm isn’t evening.] Sorry no, I’m at work.
Voice: Oh. Maybe later? Maybe 7?
Me: Sorry no, I finish work at 7pm. I need 1 hour to get home. 8pm?
Voice: Sorry, cannot do. Maybe tomorrow?
Me: Between 12 and 3 would be ok tomorrow.
Voice: Sorry, cannot do. Monday?
Me: Monday 14th?
Voice: Yes.
Me: So Monday isn’t full?
Voice: No.
Me: [deep breath] Then make it Monday, please.
Voice: Ok. Thank you Missy.
Me: My name’s not Missy. Thanks anyway.
Voice: Bye.


Skip to this morning, Monday 14th. I get up, I empty my TV table - the amp is unplugged from six speaker cables, an HDMI cable, aerials, video ins, the whole job-lot. The DVD player is disconnected from the amp and the telly, the telly is disconnected from the NowTV decoder and the amp, etc… It’s like a skeleton bone song in reverse. So it’s all lifted and moved to the sofa, the table stands empty, everything’s ready.

11am comes and goes. Noon comes and goes. 12:45pm I’m getting ready to leave for work - and the phone rings:

Voice: Hello! Missy! Table for you! We come now?
Me: Yes please!
Voice: Maybe 1 and 3, is ok for you?
Me: 1:15? Ok, do it. Thanks.
Voice: Ok, see you!


So far so good. And the two men do turn up at 1:15 - I go down to the lobby and make sure they come up the right lift, let them in - they get the table knocked up in record time and even put it where I want it. And then I point to the table to remind them to take it.

“We no take,” says the driver.
“Man in shop say you take,” says I.
“We charjuh.”
“How much?”
“Take away is $200.”
“Fine.” Gets money. “There. Split it. Go nuts. Get some San Miguel on the way home.”
“Thank you Missy!”

They depart. I’m left standing looking at a brand new table, a plethora of cables and electrical appliances on the sofa, and the prospect of being late for work.

A taxi ride listening to Muse calms me down, and I get to work just about on time. Job done.

So please, remind me - next time I walk into Pricerite with the intention to buy anything I can’t carry by myself, just shoot me.

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