(The saga continues.)
It is possible that the devil might be a little overburdened lately. What with Bin Laden still missing and, uh, so many Republicans, he apparently had no choice but to cut back and outsource an entire division of Hell.
I must have done something heinous in a past life, because Dell Hell has a spot with my name on it. It is somewhere between the automated phone system and the last person I spoke to at the end of a three hour telephone marathon with no finish line in sight. Of the fourteen people I conversed with in an attempt to locate the missing monitor, " we are very sorry for your problem" was the one thing spoken clearly and emphatically by each one. Other than that, nobody has a solution or any information.
In the course of three hours, I was disconnected four times and had to begin the entire process again. Automated menu, order number, choose a dept, get an alleged "customer care representative," and begin the tale, complete with reading off order numbers again and verifying my identity. Half say the monitor was never shipped. The other half thinks the monitor may have been shipped but they can't track it because there is no tracking number. I admit I never took Shipping 101, nor do I have an MSS (Master of Shipping Shit) degree, but I would think that if there is no freaking tracking number folks, you damn well never put it in a box with my name on it and sent it out the door.
I called them first on Monday to say that the monitor had not been received. They told me I had to call back in 24 hours in order to allow enough time to "track it." I gave them 72 hours before calling back. Now they tell me to call back in another 24 to 48 hours because their "tracking records" have not been updated. Obviously, a sub-section of Dell Hell is Tracking Hell.
Today I called the salesman I bought the damn thing with. He had given me his phone number and direct extension which he has no idea how he will live to regret. He graciously offered to help after listening to my story...and promptly connected me back to the same "customer care" (and to the wrong department) which was only ascertained after I went through my entire routine. I was then transferred to another "I'm very sorry for your problem" woman. I finally told her that I was sending everything back because the ordeal was making me sick and I just figured out that the antidote will be a MacIntosh. "Oh you shouldn't do that," she said, "because you won't get properly credited." This they understand how to do. So now they'll hold me hostage with my credit card whether I have the all the pieces or not.
The interesting part is that I noticed on my shipping bill that although I was having the thing shipped to my office, they had the billing address (my home address) incorrect and called to tell them so. They "customer-cared" me immediately. One phone call. One person. Two minutes.
When last seen, Miss Missing Monitor was tied to the railroad tracks with a steam engine bearing down upon her...