That's the first clue b-llshit is about to rain down. "No, of course I don't have the receipt," I replied to the clerk in the jewellery store when I brought back a broken ring this morning. "It's been a year and I didn't think this ring would snap for no reason. Afterall, my husband paid more than $1 K and there were no instructions given that it be worn only while stationary," I replied.
"I must be in your system," I said, "because you asked for more coordinates than I had to give when I gave birth." She then checked and found me, of course, so why she needed a receipt was just BS. "You bought this just over a year ago and you didn't buy the 'care package', so I'm afraid there's nothing we can do," this b-tch announced.
"So, you mean to tell me that you don't stand by your thousand-dollar product when it falls apart after 10 minutes?" I said. Sorry, was all I got. I grabbed the ring and said, "I have a blog, which thousands of people read and I intend to put this fraud on facebook, so good luck with trying to run your business."
How outrageous. B had bought the ring last year, when I had been laid up with a hip injury. Sweetly, he wanted to cheer me up.
The store is 'Paris Jewellers" in Market Mall in Calgary. Never shop there.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment