1. Cabinets arrive via big white truck driven by a cranky terrible little man who practically throws them from his moving vehicle. I refuse to accept shipment without being able to verify my order and he screams at me in my dining room that it's correct and to take up any concerns I have with Home Depot.
2. The cabinets are left on my front porch and I have to move them to the back of the house (where the kitchen is) by myself. I call the store manager and ask that this delivery company never be assigned to another one of my orders. An hour or so later I discover that the shipment is indeed INCORRECT. I decide that I must be being Punk'd. Obviously.
3. A reorder is promised in five days for new doors. They've told us the hinge locations are exactly the same.
4. Seven days later they arrive but they've forgotten to schedule installers. They tell me it will be another three to five days. After thirty six phone calls, they finally retract and find a carpenter who arrives at our house around four in the afternoon. We discover the doors were ordered incorrectly again. Plus, the hinge locations are NOT the same. At all. I realize why I do not carry firearms.
5. I'm told that the reorder of the reorder will be expedited. IT WILL BE ANOTHER WEEK. Andrew hides the steak knives.
6. No one calls to follow up. A week passes.
7. Some of you begin to email things like, "You'll go through menopause before you get those effing cabinets." Except you don't write effing because you want to appear supportive and understanding of how true and real my frustration is. And because you use the word fucking more than I do. And I appreciate that. Eff those effing cabinets.
8. I finally get a hold of someone only to discover that my order was abandoned altogether and the level of professional incompetence at this point is so bizarre that I want to find whoever is in charge and dance on their skull in four inch slingbacks. But I'm pretty sure it is a child. So that option is out. Maybe.
9. The reorder of the reorder was never placed.
10. I was then promised a reorder of the reorder of the reorder in eight days. EIGHT DAYS LONGER.
I went ape shiz.
I insisted on knowing where on the factory floor they were exactly, how they are going to be shipped, what team is installing them, who the back up team is AND I DON'T CARE IF IT'S THREE IN THE MORNING IT BETTER BE IN EXACTLY EIGHT DAYS BECAUSE ANDREW AND I HAVE A BLACK TIE EVENT TO ATTEND OUT OF TOWN THE NEXT DAY AND I AM NOT MISSING AN OPPORTUNITY TO EAT SOMETHING OTHER THAN PACKAGED FOOD.
And I'm not sure if it was the veins in my eyeballs popping out or Andrew mentioning that he is not above tearing out the cabinets and leaving them in a Home Depot parking lot and taking our business for all of the properties to this little shack called Lowe's, but suddenly everyone up the food chain started getting involved. And their mothers.
And I was promised by managers of managers of companies that own Home Depot and Thomasville and the guy in charge of the elf who lives in the factory and makes all the toys.
We're talking big deal people.
Like God and stuff.