“Or whether to laugh or cry”, a cautionary tale by Richard Leyton (laughing, because we’ve done enough crying to date), and Sofa Workshop.
Back in late January, we ordered three items from Sofa Workshop. A large three seat sofa, a smaller two seat sofa, and a reclining chair. All leather. All nice. So, with the flooring going in - we’re assured - tomorrow, we decided to arrange for delivery of the items for this Thursday. The delivery company had phoned back at the beginning of March to say they had stuff to deliver, but we put them off until we knew the floor would be ready. So, we were ready now. What could possibly go wrong?
Well, it transpires somebody, somewhere, has “lost” the three seat sofa. The delivery company hasn’t got it. Sofa Workshop said they delivered it. The delivery company had apparently e-mailed to say they hadn’t received it, but that didn’t go to the right department or some such nonsense. So, only when I phone to say “deliver everything on Thursday” do they say “Ah, we’ve not actually got it”, and then ask me to chase Sofa Workshop (”Not our problem, Guv”, was pretty much what it amounted to).
I then have to phone Sofa Workshop to find out what’s going on. And they then give me the telephone number of their internal delivery company to find out what’s what. I’m sorry? This is now my problem, how, exactly? You lost a sofa, so you need to find it.
Sure enough, the customer services person I was talking to took the hint, and did the chasing (I should add, I was politer - if somewhat aghast and quizzical - than I am perhaps implying in my transcribing of events). But the end result was the same: A large three seat leather sofa has been - I suppose the word is “misplaced” - and a combination of fuckups (primarily the delivery company e-mailing, not phoning, to report the item as not present) means that they’ve now re-ordered the sofa we were told was ready a month ago.
So, over two months after ordering, and a month after it was ready, we’re back at the beginning again, and have to wait for the main sofa to be constructed and shipped to us.
In the meantime, if you have any idea how somebody can ‘lose’ a three seat leather sofa, feel free to make some suggestions. My thoughts on the matter don’t really warrant repeating. There might be children reading this. And I have to put my dream of a nice weekend supping coffee, reading the newspaper, and forgetting all about this, in our completed downstairs, back another bloody month.
Update: This was not Sofa Workshop’s fault in the end, as it turned up with the delivery of the other items as detailed here. The delivery company was Peter Graham Limited, and it sounds like they were entirely at fault. Sofa Workshop were, I suppose, actually rather helpful and did the best they could given every sofa is made to order.
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April 10th, 2006 at 2:24 pm
Well, it seems that Sofa Workshop have an “Optimiser team” (oh, now that’s a team name!), who have prioritised our Sofa for remanufacture, so the earliest we can expect to get it delivered is now the end of April.
A very apologetic customer services girl, who wasn’t easily led into speculating how this thing got lost other than to suggest an order screw-up or it getting loaded onto the wrong shipment. But “it’s all been invoiced” seems to be some sort of cop-out on their behalf, and somebody in a department that deals with this (what, the “lost sofa department???”) isn’t picking up their phone. My guess is they’re smoking a cigar on a nice three seat sofa whilst nobody is looking. Aha! How little they know!
My suggestion of printing some posters and distributing them about the place, a sort of “Have you seen this sofa?”, with perhaps a picture and a comment about “a much loved family member” or somesuch didn’t really go down as well as I’d hoped. Too professional by far, and probably recognised me for a desperate and ever-so-slightly manic customer who’s close to the edge….
April 10th, 2006 at 2:25 pm
Whenever I misplace something, I look for it down the side of the sofa cushions. Just thought you could pass that tip on to the delivery company
April 10th, 2006 at 2:48 pm
I’m sure it’ll appear (out of the blue) in Lords Cricket Ground.
April 10th, 2006 at 2:55 pm
Yup, that or wedged up a staircase somewhere
April 10th, 2006 at 6:07 pm
Have you paid for it?
If not, do what I did, I wrote and told the company I would charge them £10 per day for each day that 3 people had no sofa to sit on. At the end of 6 weeks the sofa was delivered. The bill was paid, minus £420. I said see you in court for the remainder. They gave up and it was a well known store who hate publicity.
April 10th, 2006 at 10:33 pm
It is paid for, sadly. As with so much of these damned house improvements we’ve been tackling - I intend to make a fuss of it. It’s on a credit card, so I’ve got that fallback if I don’t receive what I paid for. I also intend to make it clear I’ve lost out on interest.
But the thing that is really coming through most clearly in everything we’ve attempted this last couple of months, is the stunning capacity of ordinary people to fuck up in extraordinarily bizarre ways, usually at the expense of anybody but themselves.
But even more stunning, perhaps, is my arrogant belief that somehow we’d not suffer any of these complications, by merit of having done every last thing to check, double check and make careful decisions.
Ah well. At least I’ve discovered a whole new world of cynicism
r.
ps. What was that about publish and be damned? I think we should know who you bought from
April 11th, 2006 at 12:58 pm
M&S
April 13th, 2006 at 6:03 pm
[...] I present you all with the answer to my question earlier this week: How to lose a three seat sofa. [...]
April 5th, 2007 at 11:52 am
[...] as this was the last item in our home improvements, and should have been the easiest by far. http://www.leyton.org/diary/2006/04/10/how-to-lose-a-three-seat-sofa/ If you need me, I’m either curled up in the corner cackling to myself, down the pub, or all [...]