In September (yes, last calendar year), I ordered some things from IKEA.do to help furnish our not-so-humble abode. I was tired of stacks of books on the floor and cardboard tables. After hours of consultation which spanned several weeks, putting things in my electronic cart and taking them back out again, I settled and punched in our VISA card numbers. And didn't look back.
Delivery day finally arrived along with most of the things we had ordered and paid for. The burly delivery men were confused. Your whole order isn't here? No, sir. It is not. I ended up having to highlight items on my receipt and tell them to find those for me. They couldn't. Ah-ha! I told you!
At that point, I should have sent back the whole order. But I was desperate to put away our books and get our things out of suitcases where they'd made themselves at home for two months. I believe its called "attachment" and can get you into trouble in a hurry.
BurlyDeliveryMen took some notes, talked amongst themselves, made a few phone calls that sounded full of import and concern and left. Quietly. Into the sunset. And they haven't returned.
I lost count how many complaints I've made. Emails. Kind messages. Angry messages. Weeks of no messages. Online chats through their website. I even got a date for a new delivery once at the end of October. No show. The Dominican-Swedes hate me. Or maybe I just smell that bad. I do eat a lot of beans in my island life.
I mentioned my frustration to a Dominican-Dominican, who was appalled by my sob story. Savvy woman that she is, she informed me that they have a not-so-known hole in the wall of an office here in Santiago. Perhaps I'll be able to muster enough American left in me to march down there and demand the rest of my order. And maybe I'll bring my camera for good measure. Threats of a bad reputation and horrific reviews on the interwebs. Or I'll just continue living without the things I needed back in September; you're welcome for the free money, IKEA.do