Take our new front door for instance. Last December, we ordered an exorbitantly priced front door from Lowes, complete with a storm door and screen door. The main door got installed, but problem #1 arose because after paying full price for everything upfront, we were told our door frame wasn't suited for a storm and screen door. Well sir, we already paid for it so I suggest you suit it up and make it work. So they eventually did.
Problem #2 was that the screen they installed was loose and clearly too big for the frame. It would literally billow in the wind, had no structure to it, and when Jehovah's witnesses stopped by with encouraging news for me, our German Shepherd dove through it and chased them back to their van.
Ron spent the next several weeks repeatedly calling Lowes requesting they please install the screen that fits the frame. Repeatedly.Calling.Lowes. Until they finallyyy returned his calls and scheduled a time to replace the screen door.
Which brings us to problem #3 when they ordered the same wrong sized screen. You know, the big billowy one that failed to protect the Jehovah's Witnesses and their encouraging news.
And so it began. Months and months of Ron calling every manager in the store who'd tell us our new screen door had come in and they'd promise to "look into it" and call him back to schedule installation but never would. Meanwhile, our fully paid for exorbitantly priced front door stood with an empty screen-less frame that everybody stepped through to get into the house, because why would anyone go through the hassle of opening a useless shell of a door when they can just climb through it?
By the end of August, I'd had enough. So after nine months of Lowe's playing around with good cop, bad cop was goin' in. And by that I mean I was literally going in to Lowes.
That might not seem like a big deal, but as a general rule, I don't go into stores by myself.
Let me give you a couple examples of why that is:
Four days earlier, I had time to kill while I waited for Caymen at Driver's Ed. I decided to go into Big Lots, but accidentally walked into Shoe Sensation right next door, and then said out loud to one of the employees of SHOE Sensation, "Wow, I didn't realize you sold shoes here."
Another time before that, we had to stop by Verizon to get a new phone for me. While Ron parked, I walked inside and told the employee that I need a new phone. He just sat behind the counter staring blankly at me while I stared back wondering what his problem was, until Ron popped his head inside the door and yelled, "Shar! This isn't Verizon. This is Game Stop."
So you see why I don't go out unsupervised, much less ever gone traipsing alone on a mission into Lowes.
Until August 28th, that is. I put the grandbabies on the bus, got dressed, did my hair, and applied a full face of makeup. I was gonna walk in there looking like a put together woman who can reasonably work with them to solve their communication problem.
I also didn't eat breakfast, drink any coffee, purposefully drove through every construction zone, and listened to politics the whole drive over. If I could've inflicted spontaneous PMS on myself, I would've. Triggers I actively avoid had become weapons in my arsenal.
Why? So that just under the surface of that put together woman would lie a female rage fire that would happily eliminate their communication problem for them, and cry on cue if needed.
All the stops had been pulled and I had zero good cop supervision to step in and prevent whatever was about to go down. We could resolve this the easy way or the peri-menopausal way, the choice was entirely up to Lowes.
I walked to the customer service counter and politely asked to speak to a store manager.
When the smiling store manager approached and asked how he could help me, I gave him my most charming smile that didn't quite reach my eyes and calmly explained that we paid full price for an exorbitantly priced front door 9 months ago and it's still surrounded by a useless door frame that everyone climbs through because even though Lowes assures us our new screen door came in, they can't seem to pinpoint a time to get that installed for us. And then I stood there boring into his eyes while his smile slowly disappeared. Then he pulled out a piece of paper and said he'd take down my name and number and "look into it."
That's when I ruined his day by explaining that I'm going to be staying right there in the store until we get to the bottom of this situation, me still smiling into his deer in the headlights stare.
He then condescendingly explained to me that's not the way it works, so then I explained to him that their way doesn't work and it hasn't worked for nine whole months and I could've grown an entire human baby in the amount of time it's taken to get a screen door that fits on an exorbitantly priced and fully paid for door and that's the problem that brought me into Lowe's by myself so we're gonna try it my way today.
Me still scary smiling.
Realizing I wasn't going to budge, manager #1 led me back to manager #2's desk and told him the brief summary of what I needed. Then manage #2 pulled out a piece of paper and said he'd take down my number and call me back after he "looks into it." But I pulled out the chair across from his desk, sat down, and explained that he won't need to do that.
Me. Smiling.
Manager #2 wasn't smiling and actually looked physically ill. Manager #1 even asked him, "Are you ok?" And manager #2 said, "I don't feel good." To which I interjected, "I bet you'll feel better after we get our installation scheduled."
Smiling. Always smiling.
Manager #1 escaped the scene and manager #2 called the installation company, told them what I needed and gave them my name and number. Then he got off the phone and told me, "They're going to call you. If they don't call you by noon, give me a call back and I'll call them again, okay?"
I sat my phone on his desk and said, "You'll know if they don't call." And I sat back and crossed my legs. Smiling.
In a miraculous 20 minutes, we had the installation date set and to the relief of Lowe's Managers everywhere, I was leaving the premises. Everybody smiling.
The new screen door was installed the following Monday.
Tuesday morning our 8 year old grandson arrived, ran his head through the frame, and was wearing our new screen door like a hat before anybody had a chance to remind him it had a new screen.
Wouldn't Lowes love to know who finally wiped the smile off my face.
