“So you’d like an explanation?”

I have been engaged in an epic battle the last three weeks; one I hope is resolved tomorrow. As previously mentioned, my furnace was cleaned by a Sears Home Central technician last month. A few weeks later, while my ducts were being cleaned by some fellows from another Sears department, I was shown how ‘clean’ my furnace was. The motor was dustier than Lindsay Lohan’s underwear drawer.

After calling the Home Central line, I was told that someone from customer service would call me back. I let three business days go by without any response from Sears. I called in and explained the situation again to the hapless idiot on the other line. “Well ma’am, these requests take some time to reach customer service. I see here that a note has been made on your account, so someone will definitely call you back.”

I let another three business days go by before I called back. Unlike the previous call, I got through to someone pretty quickly. Again I explained my situation to the woman and she transferred me before I was done speaking. I was on hold for at least ten minutes. During that time, I was hoping that our IT department wasn’t logging the call and wondering why I was on the phone with a 1-800 number for that amount of time.

Another French Canadian gentleman answered the phone. I did my spiel again wondering when customer service would be getting back to me. “Oooooh, I am so sorry madame, but this is the parts department. You will have to call the 1-800 number again and follow the prompts.” It was then that I sort-of-kind-of lost my temper.

“I did call the 1-800 line! I spoke to a woman who transferred me to you and I’ve been waiting for 10 minutes! Now listen, this is the third time I’ve called in a week and a half. I keep getting told that customer service will call me and yet, my furnace is still dirty!” I heard a chuckle escape from one of my cubicle neighbours.

“Ok, madame, can I have your phone number please?” Flustered François asked.

I gave him the info he requested and he brought up my account on his screen. He asked if he could put me on hold. I hesitated a bit before answering, thinking he was going to hang up on me. Instead, I said he could and waited.

He came back about five minutes later and told me he had filled out the required form and was sending it to customer service. He then added the tired line, “someone from customer service will be getting in touch with you in the next 48 hours.”

“I’ve been hearing that for the last week and a half, how do I know it will be different now?” I replied angrily

“Because I filled out the correct form, madame.”

“I see, so everyone else filled in the wrong form then?” I asked not expecting an answer. “Can you not just give me the number for the customer service department?”

“Oooooh, no madame. Here it is not like at other places, our reps aren’t on the phone all day.”

“I see,” I said wondering what kind of sweatshop customer service department Sears was running. Are the employees in that particular area all twelve year old Malaysian children who only take customer calls while on break from sewing together soccer balls?

I could tell Flustered François was eager to get the raving bitch off the line so I thanked him for his time and hung up.

I let the 48 hours pass and called back, again while at work. The guy I got that time wasn’t nearly as passive as Flustered François. I did the spiel and he immediately replied with, “Did the duct guy show you the dust before or after he started?” I replied that it was before he’d begun his work, when he opened up the front of the furnace.

“How many weeks were between the cleaning and the duct guy getting there?” I knew where Mr. Spanish Inquisitor was going and I shot him down immediately.

“3 weeks, not enough time to let that much dust accumulate,” I replied.

“Was everything else done? A furnace service isn’t just about dusting. The wires are checked, there’s lubrication,” he went on and on.

“I’m not sure if everything else was done correctly. All I know is that the motor and the front of the machine are covered in dust,” I replied snarkily.

“Did you not stay with him while he serviced the machine?” (He was cruisin’ for a bruisin’, he was.)

“I didn’t realize I had to supervise, I thought he’d know to do his job properly,” I shot back.

“Can I have your phone number please?” He asked with a hint of impatience.

I gave him the info and he read out all of the notes made on my account regarding the calls I’d made. “So you’d like an explanation?”

“No, I want my money back so that I can get another company to come and do the job right,” I replied. I heard him typing on his keyboard and he said, “I’ve put in a note to the department,” he said. “Someone from customer service will give you a call back.”

I asked yet again to just be put through to the customer service department directly. “That’s not how it’s done here. We fill out our forms and send it to them and if the forms just sit on their desk, then, there’s nothing I can do about that.”

“And when they don’t get back to me, what am I to do? Call back and go through this again?” I asked, sending my impatience across the line to him.

“I guess so,” he replied. I was tempted to tell him to go fuck himself, but I refrained. I’d wait until I either got my money back or the furnace clean before doing that.

I let the weekend go by and decided to try another avenue. I called Sears’ corporate customer service. I explained the situation to the guy on the other end and he said that a note had been put through on Saturday to the service department. “Someone will give you a call either tomorrow or the next day,” he said.

“Everyone I’ve spoken to the last two weeks has told me that,” I said the frustration beginning to take its toll.

“Okay, I’ll speak to the service manager myself and see to it that it’s taken care of,” he replied. I hung up with him fully expecting to have to call back in a few days.

Upon checking the voice mail at home that night, I was surprised to hear a message from the same guy I’d spoken to that afternoon letting me know I should call back and have an appointment set up. “We’ll send someone out again and get things taken care of properly for you.” Wearily, I called in and set up an appointment for this weekend.

Unlike the last time the technician came out, I’ll be downstairs with him the entire time. Hell, I’ll even offer to hold his flashlight for him so he can see everything clearly.

I wonder what, if anything, the technician has heard about this call. Note to technician: customer is a crazy bitch. Leave no dust behind! It’d be funny if it were the same guy that came by the first time. Regardless, this is the last time anyone from Sears Home Central will be coming into my home.