Have you ever made a retail or service complaint? I have but only a handful of times. Like when I ripped open a bag of chips in primary school and nearly lost my shit because I didn’t get my Tazo. I wrote the company a letter (with an actual stamp on it. I also had a pet dinosaur.) and a few weeks later they sent me TEN TAZOS!!! It was like my birthday but better. My brother was so jealous and hatched this amazing plan that he’d write them a dishonest version of my letter and then he’d get TEN TAZOS TOO!!! Mama Smaggle denied him the stamp and envelope. She wasn’t having none of that shit and thus my inner code of ethics started to form. Smaggles can complain about stuff but only if it’s true. Word.
So, last week Mr Smags and I ordered our favourite home delivery. They’re usually super speedy and bring delicious magical food so we like to give them our money. An hour after ordering our food, it still hadn’t arrived and Mr Smags had started gnawing on the couch cushions so I called and was like ‘What up fools? Where’s my crispy spring rolls and tiny bottle of awesome sauce?‘. I was told to wait a bit longer. So I waited another 30 mins. Then I called back and had this conversation.
Me – ‘Hi! I ordered home delivery an hour and a half ago and it hasn’t been delivered.Order 34.’
Guy – ‘Order 34? YOUR PHONE IS DISCONNECTED! THE DELIVERY GUY CALLED AND CALLED AND YOU DIDN’T ANSWER! HE HAD TO COME BACK HERE!’
Me – ‘What phone number do you have?’
Guy on the Phone – *recites incorrect phone number*
Me – ‘And what address do you have?’
Guy On The Phone – *recites correct address*
Me – ‘Is there any particular reason why the delivery guy didn’t just ring my doorbell? That’s generally the accepted way to let people know that they’re outside your house. Particularly if they’re delivering food.’
Guy On The Phone – ‘I’ll send him back now.’
The food arrived a full two hours late, soggy and cold. All the pleasure of eating my supposed-to-be-fluffy-pork-bun in front of my coeliac boyfriend was tainted because I couldn’t quite believe that someone had stood outside my apartment building, inches from the intercom, with my address in their hands and didn’t ring my fucking doorbell. Also that it took them 2 hours and 2 phone calls to figure out what went wrong.
So I wrote them a firm email. I used grown up words like ‘unacceptable’ ‘disappointed’ ‘loyal customer’ and ‘douche canoe’. They apologised profusely and send me a gift voucher for a future takeaway. Very good business practice indeed.