Anarking

Flaw-wary

February 5, 2010 on 11:56 pm | In Uncatagorized Bastard |

There are bad ways to run a business and fucken shitheel retarded ways of running your business. Davis Flowers on 1022 Davis St in Evanston is the both of those and a little worse.

It all started when I decided to surprise my wife at work with an orchid. So the morning of I placed a order with the a fore mentioned local florist. Little did I know this was not so much a florist as a way for an angry little woman to ruin special occasions.

I decided to call the florist after my lunch break to see if the flowers were delivered and was told that yes indeed they were and that they would be delivered in the early afternoon. Within a half hour of reassurance I get a call from some ancient sounding lady telling me that they were out of orchids but could come close to reproducing the arrangement I originally picked out an paid for. This was a bit odd since I was sure they were being delivered already. I must have stepped into some sort of anomaly, perhaps a wormhole the disrupts the space time continuum but whatever the reason the flowers that were being delivered thirty minutes ago now no longer existed. To late to find a better stocked flower shop I thought, better just suck it up and hope they can come close to replicating the design if the work surprise is going to pan out. So like pissing into the wind I said fuck it and let them do there work explaining to them that the needed to get this to her in no more than 2 hours because otherwise it would be worthless.

You don’t need a magic eightball to see that the fuck up train was about to jump more tracks than a cd player in the back of a off-roading landrover. But fit was all I was going on at that point, perhaps if I read the 9 negative reviews on google instead of the two seemingly questionable yelp reviews I would have exercised more prudence.

I called once more sensing that a shitstorm was a brewing. The ancient voice answered. “So diid you deliver the flowers to my wifes work as we agreed on?” I was certain that I knew the answer.

“We call you wife, she say ok for us to bring flowers to your house she is not at work”

Goddammit.

“So let me get this straight you called her to tell her that the flowers I specifically told you to bring to her work before 5pm would be at the house thereby effectively ruining the purpose of why I wanted to get flowers delivered to her work and demolishing the surprise.”

“Yes we do this.”

Goddammit.

“No this is bad why would you do this? Do you understand why people get flowers delivered to the loved ones at work, the whole surprise element? The announcement to the coworkers that hey someone got flowers delivered must be a special occasion?”

“No we do always this way to see if person around to pick up flowers. Everyone do this.”

Goddamit. Goddammit. Gawddammmmit!

Fine. I figure. Suck it up and be adult about this. I try to tell myself. So the surprise is ruined and the flowers won’t be the exact same ones you saw on the site but these people are professionals, these flowers will look great, the wife will be thrilled when she see how lovely the arrangement is.

Then I get home, and what the fuck greats me. A red a green bush of carnations and tulips and other fine and rare flowers that can be only purchased at establishments like grocery stores and hari krishnas. Why not just send over a poinsettia surrounded by dog turds. This is nothing like what I paid for.

I call back the next day demanding a full refund, figuring hey they made a mistake maybe the will own up to it. Instead I get the same ancient angry old lady who I now realized was the so called florist that produced the leafy bullshit sitting on my coffee table back home.

“No, you order this, I call wife she say ok to bring home, flowers are beautiful.”

“No flowers are not beautiful and you should have called the payer if you were unable to fulfill your part of the bargain, my wife is the recipient, you took the money out of my card so you deal with me, and if you would have told me told me that you would not be able to my deadline then the deal would have been off. You knew this so you called here.”

There is a whole bunch of talk about policies and my rebuttals that consist of bullocks to you policies give me back my money shitmonkeys, I continue to call them shitmonkeys until they concede to my superior debate prowess.

Then my wife calls me saying that this ancient sounding old lady asked is she likes the flowers. My wife takes on the tone of an ever proper courtesan when asked to give an opinion to someone who does not want to hear what the truth is. “They are lovely but just not my style.”

“Oh flowers should be more about the thought not about emotion.” the ancient voice says trying to sound like a Herbal Confucius, “Maybe you keep flowers”

“Did you talk with my husband, he is the one who bought them.”

“Oh I talk I talk. What wrong with him?”

Effectively the hateful ancient floral troll triggered my wife’s loyalty. No one talks shit about her man. She ends the conversation telling the ancient one to confer all other discussions on the matter with me and that she will agrees that a full refund is in order.

As we approach the floral shop of horrors my wife decides to stay in the car, which is good because its hard to maintain a proper air of courtesanship when you have an argumentative grue by your side telling merchants just how full of shit they are and how many bags of dick they can go choke on.

Inside I am eyed by a squat ancient looking lady, who I am pretty certain was preparing a curse in the back room.

“I am here to get a refund for these.”

“Oh you are the one. Look these not the flowers I bring you.”

“They are”

“Oh these flowers are all messed up, how you mess up so much?”

“They aren’t”

“Oh they missing two tulip, where my tulip”

“No tulips are missing stop it”

“Oh they are frozen you leave outside.”

“They are not frozen are you refusing to give me a refund?”

“Oh $25 return fee.”

“You will give me a full refund, no return fee, no more nonsense about missing tulip of frozen anything.”

I am really starting to get frothy, my inner grue wants out. Just as the ancient lady was getting ready to point out issue with the balloon an younger version of here appears from the back room. The curse seems to require a virgins blood, I think to myself.

“We will refund you but this is not right, no one have ever complained about us.”

“Try googling you store sometime, there are like 9 one star reviews soon to be 10″ I reply.

“THAT’S LIE, THEY LIE, THEY MAKE STORY” bellows the ancient.

“You know that’s uncalled for” the younger ancient points out.

I guess pointing out honest criticism to those in denial is seen as mean in certain circles. No matter the refund goes through, I hope.

When I get back into the car my wife says that the old lady came out tapped on the car window and started telling here that what I was doing was not right. She even tried the door handle to get into the car properly freaking my wife out. Then in her ancient cursey way says “I will remember you.”

As we are driving away my wife says, “Hey, by the way I noticed she had orchids in her window displays.”