Sometimes Customer Service Rocks

Oh hi.  Yesterday was Monday, wasn’t it?  I totally got distracted.  That sometimes happens when juggling a rotting animal carcass in a wall, a bricked cell phone, and a possessed carpet cleaning machine.  The good news is only one of those issues ended badly.  The bad news is my bathroom smells like an exorcism gone bad.

Anyway, let’s just pretend yesterday was a national holiday or something, k?  K.

Her:  Hi!  My name is Leslie!  Thanks for calling [store]!

Me:  Jesus, Leslie – you’re highly caffeinated, aren’t you?  What’s up?  How are kicks?

Leslie:  Great!  Thanks for asking!  Now how can I help you today?

Me:  Well see, I ordered a knife last week.  This morning I received a knife.  But they aren’t the same knife.

Leslie:  Are you sure?

Me:  Absolutely.

Leslie:  Let’s look up your order.

Me:  That’s probably not going to help.  Dig it – we received this fancy block of knives when we got hitched, right?  But we just moved and somehow lost one in the process – my favorite one – a 7 inch Santoku.  I know that’s what it was called because I still remember the sales dude telling us how special those little divots in the blade were because they kept your slices of cucumber from sticking to the knife.  I think my husband tried to hump the poor thing he was so exited.  The knife I mean, not the salesman.  Anyway, I’m very certain I ordered the right thing.

Leslie:  Yes, I see that here.

Me:  But that’s not what I received.  All the product numbers on the packaging match up, but I’m telling you – this is NOT what I ordered.

Leslie:  …and you’re quite certain?

Me:  Leslie, I’ve been on enough dates in my life to know when something is really seven inches, and when it is NOT.

Leslie:  I know THAT’s right.

Me:  Say, is this conversation being recorded for quality control?

Leslie:  I hope not.

Me:  …and frankly I’d rather just skip the part where I pretend I’m not disappointed with the size of this thing.  I’ve got better things to do today than give a paring knife a pep talk.

Leslie:  Girl, you don’t even have to let him spend the night.  Box him up and stick him on your front porch.  I’ll have UPS pick him up tomorrow.

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