I’m pretty sure I almost had a heart attack at work today. I
have been battling with Amazon for two weeks now and I think we reached the
point of no return. “What did Amazon do?”
you ask. Well, it’s simple. Valerina won a $50 gift card at work. She wanted an Amazon card. I went to Safeway and purchased her an Amazon
card. It’s a task I’ve done many times without incident. Well, Valerina went to use her card and she
got a message saying it was “invalid.” I
take the card back to Safeway and tell them I need a new card. They inform me it was activated on their end,
so they can’t help me and that I have to take
this up with Amazon. Irritated, I leave
and return to the Palace to make the call.
This is where my story of tragedy and, so far, no triumph, begins.
First off, even finding a way to contact Amazon is a
joke. It’s like a freaking scavenger
hunt to find the contact information.
And, even when you get there, guess what? You still can’t freaking call them, you have
to put in what your issue is. Unfortunately,
the drop down menu does not have the option of “I want to fucking kill you” as
an option. So, I chose the next logical
option, “Gift Cards.” I won’t go into a
ton of detail, because it is a pretty boring story. However, I did opt to have an instant message
chat conversation instead of calling them and speaking to them. I messaged with some guy named Maurice that
basically told me it was the store’s fault and I needed to talk to them. Through our conversation, I let Maurice know,
in a “politically correct” way that he could go sit on a unicorn horn and
bounce and that he was going to help me.
Miraculously, he agreed to help and said he would even follow up with me
the next day. He said it was no problem
to get the gift card activated, it should be done within 48 hours. See, look how simple that was.
Day two, Maurice is a mother trucking, butt-licking, sponge
sucking liar. I received no follow up call AND, I got an
automated email from Amazon telling me how to trouble shoot my issue. Now, I’m mad.
This time I follow the rabbit trail to where I can get Amazon to call me
and it’s some chick that I immediately hate.
She is soft-spoken, timid and I can barely understand her. I tell her my story. She says what Maurice says isn’t true and the
card can’t be activated. I tell her I
want a supervisor, but she doesn’t have one handy, so I asked for an email
address to file a complaint. She
provides it and lets me know I can send proof of purchase to them and they
might be able to help me. I then send
them an email and proof of payment and a copy of the gift card. In response, some
scum-sucking, nose picking alleged human being sends me an email telling me they
are super sorry for my inconvenience and someone will get back to me in 3-5
business days. Um, no. This is not okay. Then, I get an automated message telling me that I need to basically go bark up a tree and here is how to trouble shoot my problem. This message has nothing to do with my problem. I take the auto messages and send them to the scum-sucking, nose-picking alleged human and tell him I don't appreciate this bullshit and I want an answer before 3-5 days. That is the last I would ever hear from the scum sucker.
I waited a couple of days for an answer. None came, as suspected. I have now received automated email messages from a variety of dimwits. I'm so furious at this point. I call back in. I'm not fucking around with YOU people. I ask for a supervisor right off the bat. The little beyotch transfers me to a no man's land an leaves me there. I wait 15 agonizing minutes listening to music that can only be heard in hell. I hang up, this is bullshit. I call back and get some guy. I tell him I want a supervisor and before he puts me on hold, I ask, "how long is this gonna take, because I won't be on perma-hold listening to music that makes me want to kill people!!!" He says that it shouldn't take long, the call volumes are low and he doesn't know why I had to wait. That bitch dumped me in some queue. I hate her guts. I now get transferred to a supervisor named Heather. She is super sorry, blah, blah, blah. She is going to follow up, blah, blah, blah. However, after this conversation, I had at least, some faith. She promised me a call back on Tuesday. She can't provide me a number to contact her, but I should trust she will call me Tuesday.
Today is Tuesday. Heather finally called, only to ask me to remind her of my issue. Are you kidding me? I refresh her. She asks me to send her proof. Oh, yeah, I already sent it. She goes and looks at the notes. "Oh, we can't open the file you sent." I'm pissed. She then says I can fax it to her and asks when I will do that. I tell her right away. I hang up with her. Big mistake. I try and fax it and the fax number she gave me doesn't even work. I'm pretty sure at this point I was borderline hysterical. I'm going to have to call back in.
I follow the mouse trail one more time to get a call back and I get Nathan. Ah, Nathan. You worthless, pot-smoking, nail-biting drain on society. Nathan informs me he is sorry. That is the only marketable skill Nathan has. Like, he is totally ready for marriage because that is all he says. I tell him, "Look, I am not being mean to YOU personally. I get this isn't your fault or problem, however, I am beyond mad." He says, "Yeah, I can see you've talked to over 10 people about this, I'm sorry." I ask to get connected to Heather. He says he can't connect me to her, he isn't allowed. What? He says due to employees safety, they can't give out numbers or email addresses or transfer to each other. I said, "Look, people hate my company and I still give out my name, voice mail info and email address. We actually help people." He's like, "What if a customer harasses us? I mean, I'm not saying you would, but what if someone does?" I lost it. I said, "What, do you work in the friggin' CIA? Some sort of witness protection program? You're incognito?" He laughs. I'm not laughing. I said, "So basically, you can't help me and you can't connect me with anyone who can?" Well, he is trying to figure out what to do, he says. He is messaging another department and they are advising him what I need to do. It's quiet most of the time. I assume he is one of those work at home folks sitting there in his Sponge Bob pajamas prepping his bong for his next hit and eating Doritos. His life can't be stressful because he doesn't DO anything. I'm growing impatient. I said, "You can't really tell me you can't just send Heather an email and give her the message that I can't fax her. It makes no sense that you are not allowed to talk to each other." He insists that no, he cannot. I continue, "It must be freaking fantastic to have your job and have zero accountability. You aren't allowed to talk to each other, you aren't allowed to help your customers, you have the best friggin' job, ever. It sounds MAGICAL! I think I am going to apply for your stress free job!!!" Nathan is unaffected. He has to be stoned. I look in the little mirror on my desk that says, "smile!" My face and neck are red. I'm ready to explode. I know my conversation can be heard 3-4 rows over in every direction. Cross Fit is safe in his office and has sprinted past me once or twice. He's not getting involved. More silence. Finally, he tells me that the person that he was getting help from has just closed out the chat. I said, "Are you kidding me? The ONE person you are allowed to talk to in the whole company just abandoned you with me. No resolution, no answers, no hope, no suggestions....NOTHING! And he just left you?! That is awesome, again, your company is beyond amazing." Nathan is sorry. He told me so. I said, "So now what, Nathan? Now, what do I do? Start over? What?" Nathan doesn't know because the one guy that was allowed to talk to him may have been killed for talking to him. I mean, I think that is how the CIA works. If you learn too much or talk to the wrong people, you have to die. I'm sure of it. It's the Amazon way. Nathan will be next. Just like the Bourne Identity, he will wake up and not remember who he is and people will come to kill him. I hope he has been working out in between getting stoned and eating all those Doritos.
I make one last attempt at solving this dilemma, "Nathan, I need to go over your head and the escalation team's head. I need to know who I can talk to, this is nuts." He informs me that there is no one I can talk to that can help me, no one will help me. The hairs stood up on the back of my neck, my left arm had pain shooting down it, my face was entirely fire engine red. I said, "Hold it, hold it...did you just tell me that there isn't anyone in your company that is going to help me? Is that what you just said? Did you just say it didn't matter how far I go, that NO ONE will help me?" He said, "...well, they aren't going to be able to do anything for you, you know, they'll have to reach out to the same departments I did...." I was done. D.O.N.E. Next to Disneyland, Nathan works at the most magical place on earth where you don't have to do shit all day and you get to wear your Sponge Bob pajamas. Fuck you, Nathan.
I hung up on him as he was telling me he was sorry again. I ran over to Valerina, "Feel my cheeks, FEEL THEM!!!! I am burning up because of fucking AMAZON!!! I'm going to have a heart attack!" She told me I needed to calm down. NO. I need to taste Nathan's blood. I returned to my area. Cross Fit said, "You need to email Bezos." "Who's Bezos?" I asked him. Turns out he is the CEO of Amazon. Yes, that is what I needed to do. I Googled his picture and pulled it up on my right hand screen and then pulled up a new email on my left hand screen. That guy looked like he had one crazy eye, but that crazy eye was no match for my crazy everything. I cleared my calendar to write this email and set in. I would just get to the point. No, he needed to suffer as I had suffered. His CIA agents were crafty, but I am bitter and that out-runs crafty any day of the week.
Thirty minutes later, I was satisfied I had recounted every detail. I had told him about his secret squirrel workforce and the smoke and mirrors and the lies and broken promises. I laid it all out on the line. It read like War and Peace. It was everything I needed it to be. It was difficult to have to remain professional when I wanted to eat him for lunch, but I think I did, minus a couple digressions into "magical territory" and CIA references. I told him his company was such a magical place to work that I, too, would apply for a position there so that I, too, could have zero accountability in life. And just as I was ready to send it, I get an automated email message from someone allegedly named Tweeny F. that is going to get back with me in 1-2 business days to discuss this matter. Tweeny? Really? I should now, all the sudden, have confidence in someone named Tweeny? I added a "P.S." to my letter informing Mr. Bezos that Agent Tweeny was on the case, but that I wouldn't hold my breath for her resolution and expected a response from him. I clicked "send" and just like that, my face returned to it's normal color, I shut my systems down and headed home.
I need a Mike's Hard Lemonade. STAT.
Oh, by the way, sorry, I know I said I would not give you all the details, but I can't help it....you know how I am.
** Update**
The following day I received an email from the Executive Customer Relations department. Problem is now resolved. No accountability has been taken for my shitty experience.
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