What a difference you see with the dentist

For about 8 months now I’ve been meaning to schedule a dentist appointment.  There’s no pressing need really, just that 8 months ago I finally got insurance and I needed to schedule a cleaning.  Oh, and this one other tiny thing.

I need to have my 2 broken front teeth replaced.

When I finally got my insurance, 11 months after moving to the city, I searched around for really good doctors.  In November I got a recommendation for my lady doctor but still hadn’t heard about a good general physician.  Since I’m in decently good shape, nothing too wrong with me (other than my acid reflux and tendency to throw out my back), I figured I’d just book with the doctor’s office below my apartment building.

I called the lady doctor first.  My appointment would be in February.  Are you kidding me?  How many months away was that?  I kind of assumed that this was because she, and her practice, came highly recommended and therefore had people clamoring to get in all the time.  Besides, the co-worker who passed her info along said she always waited about 3 months for an appointment but it was definitely worth it–this chick new her stuff.  Fine, I’ll wait.

Then I called to book my regular doctor.  That appointment?  End of February.  What the hell, NYC health system?!  I swear I’ve never waited this long for doctor’s appointments (though this does remind me of an incident with strep throat in college that I’ll have to discuss later…).

My appointment with the lady doctor was worth the wait–the woman knew what she was talking about and was very helpful (ooh, sorry, I guess I should have warned the male readers–specifically my father and brother–that they may want to just skim this post.  whoops!).  The general physician however was kind of a moron nimwit joke.  When I told her I got migraines and asked what she could do for that, her response was “make sure you stay hydrated.”  Yeah, lady, drinking water will not have the same effect as say, Immitrex.

Anyway, after that appointment was such a massive waste of time I decided I needed to really scout out a good dentist.  I asked around for awhile and finally Rebecca suggested her dentist.  Said he was the best.  Totally fabulous.

So I called his office today.  I figured I’d need at least a 3 month-lead time for just the cleaning and then, who knows how long it would take to schedule the repair work.

What happened?  I got in for Monday morning.  No 3-month wait.  It was 4 days.  4 measley days.  86 days less than what I was waiting to see any other health care professional.  WHAT?!  And this guy isn’t some chintzy dentist either.  Their web site has directions to their office via air.  AIR people!  That means he’s got patients flying in to see him he’s so fabulous.

Now, let’s just hope he takes my insurance….

la

la

la

Oh please, calm down people.  Of COURSE I asked if they took my insurance before I booked.  They’re double checking.  That’s all.

Oh, and I promise I’ll get into the whole “my 2 front teeth are broken” story tomorrow.  Pinky swear!

Design details, or, why hipsters shouldn’t be allowed to making clothing choices

Raw edges.

A design detail that, apparently, isn’t always recognized for what it is.

An artistic, aesthetic detail.

I was content to let this go.  I was going to drop it, roll with the punches, try to forget about it.  But I just can’t.

This past weekend my friend Rebecca, (aka my stylist, whose blog you should go check out and then pelt her with emails and comments so she gets back to it) graciously offered to go shopping w/me.  Sorry Rebecca, I’m about to seem ungrateful here (I’m not, I swear, I love shopping with you, please shop with me more!) but I need to bash some hipsters.

We went to Buffalo Exchange in my first trip to Brooklyn.  Okay, wait, hold on.  Stop LOOKING at me like that!  I’ve done Brooklyn before but it was always in the Elle car, running to and from the photographers or a photo shoot and carrying 30+ lbs of clothing.  This time we took the subway (we still had the excessive amounts of clothing).  When we walked into the hipster-populated store full of budding fashionistas and thrifters alike we were met with a line.  When we finally made it to the front, the girl at the register explained the process to me:

I’ll go through each item and investigate it for wear and tear, wearability, style, seasonal appropriateness, etc.

Translation: I’ll judge you on all of your fashion choices, eventually rejecting most of what you brought in, including things that you will later find replicas of already on our shelves/things that are in way better condition than things on our shelves, and I will somehow make you feel bad about yourself while I do it even though this is the closest I’ve gotten to brands like Marc Jacobs and Vera Wang and you and your friend worked with those brands extensively–oh, and we’ll give her $28 (which really means $19.60)  for dresses that retail at $500, which we didn’t actually know until we asked you.  (End rant–and run-on sentence).

As she pawed through my potential merch, she came across a tunic with a deep v-neck.  Something that, if you’ve walked around recently and seen, well, any females, you’d know is still quite “in” right now.  They are being paired with leggings, tights and jeans.  Boots and flats.  Short girls and tall girls.  Everyone is rocking the tunic.  Except that my tunic (worn just a few times since I purchased it) seemed to have one fatal flaw.

Hipster: Um, well, okay, so I’m not going to be taking this item because the sleeves appear to have been cut.

Me: They aren’t cut, they are raw edges.  That’s a style detail.  I bought it that way.

Hipster (investigating the garment again): Hm, well, yeah, it just looks badly hand cut to me, and that’s how our customer will see it too.

Me (seething): FINE.

I was irritated to say the least.  Not only had this little “fashionista” wannabe insulted my taste in clothes, she’d also implied that I was lying about cutting the sleeves off my shirt AND that I had done so with shoddy craftsmanship.  ARE YOU FREAKING FOR REAL?!

I was set to just sort of brush the experience off as a, “well, now I can say I’ve been to Brooklyn.  And I’ve mingled with the hip kids.  And now people will stop trying to make me go back.” (NOTE: I have nothing against Brooklyn.  I know lots of cool people in Brooklyn.  My aversion, if you could call it that, to Brooklyn is simply that it’s far.  I have to change trains and I’m on the train for at least 40 minutes.  And it’s not a set up like a grid.  And I don’t do well without grids.  That’s why I have trouble with the Villages, both East and West.  And those are basically the same reasons that I lived less than 30 minutes away from downtown Pittsburgh for YEARS and never really ventured into the city).

So, like I was saying, I was about to just forget the whole thing but then a strange thing happened to me at work the other day.  I was going over styles from our new line and I saw raw edges.  On men’s styles, on women’s styles, on sleeves, plackets, and hems.  And it struck me as odd that the same detail that deemed my otherwise still “trendy” garment COMPLETELY UNSELLABLE was the same detail making an appearance on not some, but many, of our current pieces.  As well as (I realized as I thought back on it) many of our past season’s styles.

So I would like to just break it down for you, just point out, if you will, the item rejections that I disagreed with.

Items rejected simply b/c the cashier/”buyer” didn’t immediately consider them items she herself would wear, without regards to their actual retail value:

• Sweet Pea top (retails at Nordstrom for $96)
• 2 California boutique tops (retail is approximately $78)
• 1 Audrey Hepburn top
• 1 Barbie studded top (Barbie is back.  She had a show at fashion week.  And her line of self-merch is expensive!)
• 1 tank dress (retail in CA in the mid-50s to mid-60s…oh, and “faded” is a washing technique.  Just so you know.)

Items rejected b/c their styling details didn’t fit this particular hipster’s aesthetic (yet which are details that are seen in upcoming lines (as well as past lines) of a certain company with which I am fairly familiar):

• 1 dress w/satin sleeves–it was though that the sleeves would pose a problem for the customer…if that’s the case, that customer shouldn’t check out our new line.
• 1 tunic w/raw edge sleeves–moments later I found a wool top that was totally unraveling, causing me to wonder about who was working register THAT day.

Also, discovered: a leather jacket that was more destroyed than distressed.  Paint/ink stains and holes where the “leather” is scratched away to reveal the lining underneath are apparently in more wearable condition than my sweater that barely needed the sweater shaver on it (oh, and by the way, some yarns have a more fuzzy look–they are called mohair).

So that was my hipster experience.  Do I want to go back?  Not necessarily.  Will that stop me from buying shirts with raw edges, sweaters that are fuzzy and therefore cozy, or boutiquey graphic tees?  Not a chance.  I just know that when I’ve finally gotten all the use I can get out of them they’ll be going to the Salvation Army instead.

PC load letter is just a cruel joke

This season, The Office aired an episode called “Surplus.”  The surplus would allow Michael’s team to get new chairs or a new copier.  Throughout the course of the episode, various employees were seen using, or attempting to use, the copier.

I was on Team Copier.

At every office I have ever worked in, there have always been printer/copier issues.  It’s out of ink.  The toner exploded and someone is trailing little blue footprints through the office.  The paper jammed and there’s no way to follow the “illustration” to unjam it.  Mainly becase the doors that the illustration are pointing to aren’t, in fact, on this particular model.

And so every day it’s a guessing game.  Every day it’s “is that printer working today?” And every day the answer is either “ha! no” or “Yes–wait–it just crapped out.”

What’s this all about?  My theory, and this is a bare bones theory at best, is that the printer/copier conglomerates are planning to avoid needing an economic bailout by providing printers/copiers that only mostly work.  Sure, you can get a few good print jobs about them.  Maybe a few Excel spreadsheets or a couple of emails.  Maybe a few color palettes or runway shots from Fashion Week.

But then, just when you are least expecting it, disaster strikes and you’re left staring, dumbfounded, wondering which paper tray is “empty” when you just filled each tray with paper.  And then, inevitably, a coworker will walk in and assume that either A) you’ve caused the problem or B) you’ll be fixing the problem.  Even if there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell that you can even begin to detect what’s wrong because after reading instruction pages 1-7, you still can’t depict which flap needs to be opened.

On second thought, maybe I’m Team Chair.  I mean, if I can’t beat the system, I might as well be comfortable while I’m fighting it.

Bedding should never cost more than the bed

Lately I’ve been feeling like it might be time to update the duvet cover.  I think this was mostly sparked by my recent trips home where my comforter is like, the palest blue ever and is super soothing, whereas my duvet cover here is, um, not.

Can you imagine how spazzy this is when it's on the orange side?

So I got it in my head that I need a new duvet cover.  Problem is, duvet covers are, apparently, hard to find.

Boo and I checked store after store this weekend.  Bed Bath and Beyond.  Target.  And every department store in the mall b/c they all seemed to be having their beginning of the year whites sale.

Still, no luck.  I can’t just get a whole new comforter.  I still have a perfectly good (except that it annoys me by clumping all stupidly in one corner and NEVER the corner by me) comforter and I could never just say “okay, well toss that unused, basically new comforter in the closest while I throw this brand new comforter on the bed”

So I did a good ol’ Google search: duvet covers.

I got a lot of good, well, some decent, um…I got feedback.  I clicked on the first site that sounded promising and started exploring.

$350.

$465.

$890.

Excuse me?  $890.  For a duvet cover!?  You realize, stupid bed linen manufacturers, that a duvet cover is really just a big pillowcase right?  It’s 2 large sheets of fabric, sewn together with one open end for you to shmush the comforter through.  HOW COULD THAT POSSIBLY COST ME NEARLY A GRAND!?!?!

I mean, my mattress didn’t even cost me that much.  And I didn’t get a cheap mattress.  In fact, I’m basically in love with my mattress.  I’d spend all day with it if I could–it’s THAT good.  So why then is the bedding going to cost me more than the mattress itself?

I just don’t understand it.  And it bums me out.  I mean, how am I supposed to switch from my super intense orange comforter to something a little more…mellow when I could easily put that money aside and buy a sofa.

Or a car.

Or a put a down payment on a house.

Girl dies in tragic tomato sauce incident, news at 11

Tonight I went to Gristedes.  I spent $37 on ONE bag of groceries.  And I put BACK the $8.99 pesto.

I feel like I am perpetually bitching about my market, but when I look at the above sentence and realize that that is basically my only option, I die a little inside.  But I suck it up, and I go grocery shopping.

Tonight I had a few things in mind that I needed to buy–bread being the most important one, mainly b/c the cold cuts I’d ALREADY picked up weren’t going to do me any good w/o something to put them in between.  So I peruse the bread aisle.  There’s no Pepperidge Farm.  There’s no D’Italiano.  There’s nothing.  FINE Gristedes, thanks, anyway, I’ll just buy rolls.

There are no packs of rolls.  FINE Gristedes, I’ll just buy a single roll.

The single rolls are all stale.

You have GOT to be kidding me ‘Stede, you really do.

I finally went back to the bread aisle and after scrounging for a bit managed to find something that seemed at least mostly edible.

Then I went in search of something to eat with my tortellini.  That’s when I found, and then vetoed, the $8.99 pesto sauce.  I went back to the tomato sauce aisle.  All I wanted was a small jar of sauce.  I’m Italian, yes, and pasta is a massive part of my diet, but I tend to mix up my sauce intake so a big jar is stupid.  Do you KNOW where the little jars are in Gristedes?  Do you know?  Do you want to take a guess?

They are on the highest shelf in the freaking store. The HIGHEST shelf.  Do you know how well that works for someone who is my height?  NOT WELL!  And do you know how many tall people walked by me, while I was on my tippy toes, pinky-inching this stupid jar of sauce (which was OF COURSE 1 jar’s width back on the freaking shelf) to where I could finally, hopefully, reach the damn thing?  A LOT!  And do you want to GUESS how many of them helped me?  None.  No one even offered to help.  It was about to be a blood/sauce bath in that stupid aisle.  What would my last words have been in that situation?  DAMN YOU GRISTEDES!

My mother went grocery shopping this weekend.  She spent $33 and got a TRUNKFUL of groceries.  And we don’t live in some podunk little town.  We live in the suburb of a major metropolis.

$33 for a trunkful.

$37 for a bag.

If you ever hear about a Gristedes massacre on the news, I swear–I was at home the whole time.

RCN…you’re KILLING me!

Rachel and I have been living in The Carton for a little over a year now.  This means we’ve been paying our cable bill for as long.  In an interesting, and unannounced by RCN, turn of events, our cable bill spiked last month, jumping over 20 dollars.

It was possible, we reasoned, that our initial cable bundled packaged price had lapsed.  But w/o any warning, I didn’t feel like RCN was doing us right.  So I called them.*

la

Me: Yeah, hi, I had a question about my bill.

RCN: What can I help you with?

Me: I’m wondering why my bill spiked up in price.  I mean, we got no warning about it and the bill didn’t say why it spiked.  I’m just trying to figure out why I’m paying over a hundred dollars when there are cheaper prices online.

RCN: Let me put you on hold here and I’ll check.

*Waits on hold for a few minutes*

RCN: Well, ma’am you are paying the lowest price available right now.

Me: I’m looking at my computer and it says on the RCN page that there is a bundle for $77.  Why am I paying over $100 now?

RCN: Hm.  I didn’t see any lower prices.

Me: I’m looking at the screen right now.  Why am I paying so much more?

RCN: Let me put you on hold again for another quick minute and I’ll see what I can find out.

Me: Thank you.

*Waits on hold again*

RCN: Okay, ma’am?  You have a promotion price right now that will last until November 2009.

Me: Then why did my bill spike?

RCN: Your promotion dropped off.

Me (thinking this woman must be smoking something): But you just said I have a promotion price.

RCN: That’s right.

Me: Then why did my bill spike?

RCN: Your promotion dropped off.

Me (completely not understanding this woman): Well.  Why am I paying over $100 when there is a price off $77 online?  No one told me my bill was going to jump.  Why should I be paying $30 more than what you have listed as the bill price?

RCN: I’m not sure.  Let me check and see if you are applicable for this promotion.

*Waits on hold.  Again.  Fearing that this woman may not know anything*

RCN: Ma’am.  You had a supervisor’s promotion.  That dropped off.  That’s why your bill changed.  You still have another promotion.  I can’t get you this online price b/c it’s for new customers only.  But I can offer you $5 off your bill.  How’s that sound?

Me (wondering why the hell this woman didn’t just say all that in the first place): Well yeah, that’s better than nothing.  Thanks!  Is that it?

RCN: Uh, well, you called me.

Me: I know that.  I’m asking you if there is anything else I need to do to get the $5 off.

RCN: No.  You can wait on the line while I set this up.  Let me put you on hold please.

*Waits on hold.  Again.*

RCN: Okay, you’re all set.  Now I know you can’t remember everything but try not to forget that this will drop off next year.  Bye.

Me: OH NO YOU DID NOT JUST SASS ME!!! (To, of course, an empty line).

la

I’d love to say that maybe it would be different with another cable company.  But, since my building only allows us to use RCN, I guess I’ll never know.

But to be honest, I get the feeling they are all shiesty.

la

*In actuality, I tried to speak with them in person twice, but apparently you can only PAY your bills in-office–you can’t inquire about your bills.  Dumb.

Coinmach 1:, Lauren: 1

Remember my very trying night of laundry a few weeks ago?  No?  Well then, please remind yourselves.

Everyone caught up?

Lovely.  Then I’ll continue.

So I called them today.  Finally.  I don’t know what I’ve been waiting for.  Oh, wait, that’s right, I’m doing laundry tonight so this was logically the first time I would think of this.

It was a surprisingly easy solution.  I called.  They credited.  They didn’t even question me.  AND they said they are going to send someone out to repair the machine.

Only problem?  I forgot that it ate 6 of my dollars, not 4.  That is why I decided this should be a tied score.

On the one hand, I win my $4.20 back.

On the other hand, they botched my laundry night and kept $2.10 of mine.

Meh.

Quality control

One of the biggest problems that I have with my current job is that it has made me a very picky shopper.  Stuff that normally would have flown off the racks and into my closet is now being carefully scrutinized and put back for any number of the following reasons (including but not limited to):

• Poor fabric quality.
• Poor choice of thread color.
• Poor construction technique.

This new, obnoxiously quality-conscious attitude has both plusses and minuses.  Plusses, of course, being that I have spent way less money this fall than previous falls.  Minuses being that my fall wardrobe just seems, well sad.

But somehow, through all of my pickiness, I have managed to purchase some new pieces since taking this job.  I have had problems with two of them though.  One, a fabulous black cardigan from Urban.  The other, a fabulous brown/grey cardigan from Zara.  (Yes, I am a nerd and I live in cardigans).

The black cardi was actually purchased last May.  I wore it once, to dinner and a show with Boo and the parentals, and it was on for approximately 6 hours.  The next time I pulled it out of my closet, I saw that it had ripped apart at the collar.  Well that can’t be good.  I brought it back and exchanged it.  All was well with my sweater until I wore it bowling with some friends.  It was an absolute downpour and I was sans umbrella and sopping wet when I got home.  I draped my sweater over a chair to dry and when I grabbed it the next day, it had ripped apart.  In 2 spots.  HOW?!  How is that even possible?  Luckily the rips were right along the seam and being the seamstress that I am, I was able to remedy the problem in a few quick stiches.

Then there’s the Zara cardi.  I just bought this sweet little sweater yestderday.  I tried it on–it fit.  I tried the buttons–they worked.  All was well with the sweater.  Then I brought it home and and I was hanging it in my closet noticed that there was the beginning of what would surely end up as a huge gaping hole.  Since it hadn’t progressed far in the (w)hole process (oh COME ON, you knew I couldn’t let that pun pass me up!) I hadn’t noticed it in the poorly (as they all are) lit dressing room.  It wasn’t until I was home, with my brighter than the sun lamp that I noticed.  So back in the bag it went and I’m heading back to Zara today to have it out with management (but only if they don’t have any more smalls).

The lack of quality control these days makes me cringe.  I work in fashion.  I know what goes in to making these garments.  What I don’t know is why, over and over again, I keep running across malfunctioning clothes.  I don’t know why, when I try on a medium shirt at Gap and it fits I can buy the same shirt 2 weeks later, in the same size but a different color, and it’s suddenly very large on me.  I don’t know why, when I buy a cute little tunic at Macy’s, I can wear it for 3 hours and the next thing I know, the collar is pulling out of the neck binding and it has to be returned.

Some brands try to get around this by saying that the fraying and the fading are all part of the “natural, vintage look” of the garment and that it’s supposed to do that.  And I’m okay with the holes in my jeans getting a little holier.  But I’m not okay with my previously solid shirt looks like a slice of Swiss cheese at the end of the day.

Whatever happened to quality control?

la

*UPDATE: Back from the return trip.  Not one other small sweater in any other store in NYC.  I’m both crushed and confused.  You guys really sold out that fast?  UGH!*

The one where Boo gets his watches back

Hey everyone, Boo is back and he’s got a fun customer service story for everyone! Let’s just say that the people who make watches for Guess aren’t the sharpest tools in the shed and the following story has taken place over the past 3 months.

To save everyone the details, my father bought me a Guess watch for Christmas about 2 years ago. The “sealed” case miraculously got condensation inside and eventually stopped working. So I went back to my dependable albeit worn-to-kingdom-come Fossil watch until I decided not to be lazy and send the watch back for repair. Before I could do that however, the Fossil died and I was watch-less. The girlfriend, knowing my despair, gave me my Christmas present early and got me a brand new beautiful Guess watch this past year for Christmas. I wore it every day, and I must tell you that I didn’t swim in it. I didn’t wear it in the shower. I WORE the watch. THAT’S IT! Well apparently Guess’ watch manufacturer must also make watches for Wal-Mart and third world countries, as the quality of the new watch also failed around the end of June when it started getting really hot. How? OH…CONDENSATION, the same problem as the first watch!!

Needless to say I wasn’t happy and I decided to send both watches back to the manufacturer with a kind, yet strongly worded, letter on how the watches succumbed to the same demise. The manufacturer is in Norwalk, CT which is a day’s shipment on UPS. I sent in the watches and I waited. Around July 22nd, I called up the manufacturer and asked what the status was on my repair/replacement. I was told that the watches were delivered on the 3rd of July. I did not receive this shipment. After a lot more BS I was told that they would put in a lost package claim.

When I called back 3 weeks ago customer service put me on hold, knowing nothing had been resolved and told me that 2 brand new watches would be sent to me. Last week, when these watches STILL hadn’t arrived, I called again and customer service assured me that it should be shipped by Friday. I spent the weekend with the Lauren in NYC and when I returned home there was no package. I decided that if they had not reached me by Monday then they would be getting a call (and possibly my foot up someone’s ass…).

Monday morning I got a voicemail from the front office saying that my neighbor in 337 had dropped off 2 packages in my name…(I’m in 2337…UPS apparently can’t read directions…TWICE). I called them and asked them if they were watches. He said “Well one box is two watches…the other is just the faces…” Gee thanks Guess…what the heck am I supposed to do with two faces?! (Face here refers to the case and movement, no bracelets to attach the casing to my wrist.) I want everyone to know that yes I realize my neighbor is weird for harboring a package for 2 months, but trust me this gets much better.

I immediately hang up and call Guess, after going through the normal identification nonsense, the following conversation ensued:

Boo: “Ok, so my neighbor received my packages. What do you want back?” (I’m an honest person.)

Customer Service Lady: “So you have 4 watches total then?”

Boo: “Well…no. You sent me 2 watches, and 2 faces of the watches, no bracelets. I imagine that the ones with the bracelets were the ones sent out to me recently.”

Customer Service Lady: “Oh probably. Just send those back.”

Boo: “So then I’m just left with the faces?”

Customer Service Lady: “Yes. Oh…wait…um…oh…”

Boo: “Those don’t really do me much good without bracelets…”

Customer Service Lady: “No..I guess not. Well…send us back the watches, and we will send you out bracelets for the other ones.”

Boo: “Um…I don’t necessarily have the tools to put those two together.” (I’m not a jeweler…)

Customer Service Lady: “Oh, yeah, I guess you wouldn’t…” (This is where it gets good people) “Well why don’t you send us all of the watches back, we will put the bracelets on for you, and then ship them back.”

At this point I’m dumbfounded. I don’t understand why I can’t just keep the ones with the bracelets and I barely have words.

Boo: “Couldn’t I just keep the ones with the bracelets and send the faces back? It seems like that would make much more sense and much less shipping hassle for both of us.”

Not So Bright Rep: “No I’m sorry, we can’t do that.”

Boo: “So I have to pay shipping on this too?”

Brain Dead Rep: “Yes. Well…if you put the receipt in the box we may be able to reimburse you.”

Boo: “Look this isn’t exactly my fault, in fact it’s not at all. I am doing the right thing in sending these back, but ok that’s fine. Are the faces new?”

Barely Breathing on Her Own Rep: “Yes.”

Boo: “And the watches are also new?”

Would be Dead if I Could Reach Through the Phone Rep: “Yes they are both new, not refurbished.”

Boo: “…Ok. Thanks.”

I hang up and think about it. I realize that there is no possible way that this makes any sense so I call back hoping to get someone with a little more intelligence than a post-it note:

Boo: “Hi, I just called about watches that got shipped to the wrong place.”

Customer Service Lady Number 2: “Yeah I think I heard about call, there aren’t too many of us here.”

Boo: “Ok great. Look here’s what I’m going to do, I’m going to send you back the faces, because they are just as good as the ones with the bracelets and because IT MAKES SENSE.”

Customer Service Lady 2: “Ok can you hold on a second?” ….hold….”Ok that will be fine.”

How was this simple process so difficult?!?! I don’t understand people at times, and the number of people in this world with the intelligence of a coat hanger never ceases to amaze me. When I returned home and retrieved the watches from the office there was an invoice in the box…Guess expects me to pay $7.50 for “Shipping and Handling”. I’m calling them today and telling them that since they and their courier (UPS…UPS for reference…are you taking notes? Ok good…UPS…) cannot ship a package to the same address not even 1 out of 2 times, they can shove the $7.50 up their ass. I had to pay to ship the watches back to them the first time, and then a second time.

I don’t plan to ever buy another Guess watch in my life considering this fiasco, and let it be a lesson: when dealing with Customer Service, no matter how bad it gets, it may turn out to be a really fun story in the end. Now if you excuse me, I have to some watches to set.