The mission, should I choose to accept it, was to find out where The Boss purchased the expensive tool - now a heap of junk sitting unceremoniously on top of my desk – and return it.
Preferably for a full refund. Or an exchange for a factory-tested working model. Basically, your holy grail of customer service … followed all the way back to the manufacturer. Maybe there’s hope.
The additional pieces of information that he didn’t know included when he bought the item and whether he had ever filled out the small card that validated the so-called warranty.
I know I didn’t.
So, in effect, the task ahead of me was looking for a minor miracle.
Which, after a few minutes of scrounging around through credit card statements and the drawer where our library of operating manuals is filed in no apparent order, I am on the verge of giving up.
Another expensive piece of equipment bites the dust.
I understand this mission, which I’ve embarked on so many times before, is a performative circling of the wagons in hopes of finding that the answer is as easy as finding a pocket of the known universe where costs aren’t relative and durable goods are still durable. A pocket time hasn’t changed.
I was ruminating on these intrusive thoughts as I began to search the interwebs for a reasonable replacement.
Surprisingly, I couldn’t find one.
Typing in the trademarked name didn’t help. All the hits looked similar, but, upon closer inspection, it was clear the options were only look-alikes with rhyming names, devoid of important letters.
And under other circumstances, I may not have noticed the switcheroo..
Honestly, my fingers drummed away on the keyboard, and I found myself in a vaguely familiar place, looking incredulously at an item description that was almost exactly what I needed.
If not a little confusing.
The company would exchange my defective item with a factory-authorized refurbished tool for only a small fee and the cost of shipping. All I had to do was submit an inquiry form, complete with the number of tools I would be sending them and a return address.
Another human (and I wouldn’t blame them) would see this as just another chapter in the book of Too Good To Be True. Best just to skip it.
The more I searched for the normal solution, the more I realized that the trophy I sought might have been discontinued. I was embarking on a journey to find a holy grail.
Since I couldn’t find the interactive form the website alluded to, I called the phone number at the bottom of the page and waited for someone to answer as the cinematic scope of this idea filled my head.
“Hold on … you need to talk with Al.”
And after a few missed connections from hold (thanks to a new phone system), Al called back.
And, to my complete amazement, Al was a real person, with one small part of his job being the repair and replacement of a particular make of tool. It was also his job to make the company website function efficiently, which he was dismayed to find it wasn’t smooth enough for a rube like me. (He plans on rectifying that, too.)
Honestly, it was a breath of fresh air to talk to a real person who had an easy answer to my problem that still felt so old-world impossible.
I mailed the package that day, and two business days later, he mailed it back.
All fixed. With a little sack of hard candy and a note thanking me for my business.
Who needs AI … When there’s AL.
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