Yeah, so, as I mentioned yesterday, I got new glasses. This is such a big deal in my life that it warrants not one – but two – blog posts about it. I know. My life is exciting and awesome.
Actually, getting my new glasses was a bit of an ordeal.
On March 6, mighty, mighty good man David and I both went to Kaiser to get our eyes checked. After that appointment, we took our new prescriptions to the Lenscrafters in Daly City, because my insurance covers that. Don’t judge us! Also, my prescription was really different, because I’m old and my vision is getting crappier. I really wanted to get my glasses quickly, and Lenscrafter has the tagline, “Glasses in about an hour,” so I figured I was being smart.
For me the more accurate tagline would be, “Glasses in about an hour … or seven days, depending.” Actually, seven days turned into 12 days, but I’m getting ahead of myself.
The sales clerk at Lenscrafter was perfectly nice. He tried to help me pick out new frames, but I kinda shooed him away after he approached me with a pair of wire-framed glasses. “We don’t know each other, but I kinda have a signature look,” I told him, because I’m a dick. The first pair I tried on was the pair I ended up buying, but I tried on a series of glasses anyway, just to make sure I was exploring all my options.
I sat down at the sales clerk’s register with my chosen frames, and he told me that I could have my glasses in seven days. I was kinda annoyed, because – you know – glasses in about an hour, but OK. I can live with that.
A week later, David’s glasses were ready (but the frames had a flaw – more on that later). Mine were not. Now I was being told my glasses would be ready on Saturday. That’s 10 days. The guy on the phone gave me some excuse about how they get their shipments every day, and mine is scheduled for Saturday. I voiced my frustration: “You told me a week. Now you are telling me 10 days?” They didn’t really have an excuse, and I was angry, but I had to just deal with it.
Saturday rolls around, and no one from Lenscrafter called me. Annoyed, I called them myself, only to be told that my lenses had not arrived yet. “They might arrive in the Saturday delivery. Why don’t you call back after 3?” Now I’m pissed. Shouldn’t you call me? Also, have you heard of FedEx? If the cornerstone of your business is speed, maybe you don’t use the regular mail and instead use UPS or FedEx.
So, by 4:30 no one had called me. Surprise. Now I’m really annoyed. I call. No one answers. The recording doesn’t even pick up. I tried calling a few times between 4:30 to 6 p.m. No one ever answered the phone. I debated writing a nasty comment on Lenscrafters’ Facebook page, because I’m a bit of a social media nerd, and that’s what angry customers do at where I work. Instead, I opted to shoot off an angry email to their customer care department. I mentioned that I was going to get prescription sunglasses, but I was going to take my business elsewhere and threatened to cancel my order all together. Most likely, I wouldn’t have canceled the order. I quite liked the frames.
I called again on Sunday morning, and someone answered the phone. What a treat. She informed me that I would most likely get my new glasses on Tuesday. Gee, thanks.
A few hours later, she called me back. It seems they got a letter from corporate. They want to do everything to make me happy. She made some excuse about how their phone lines have been “messed up.” I said something along the lines of “I don’t care about your problems,” and I just want my glasses that I paid for, and I mentioned that my husband’s glasses were screwed up, too. They knocked $50 off my bill and promised to contact me the minute my glasses arrived.
Monday afternoon, the main lab tech in the Daly City location called me to tell me my glasses are in. “I get off at 6. Is it possible for you to come in before then so I can fit your glasses personally?” he asked.
I said yes, and I thanked him for the call. Then, for the rest of the day, I fretted about my trip to Lenscrafters.
I joked that I would walk in, and they would lock the door behind me. “Everyone in that office thinks I’m an asshole,” I complained to my office buddy Paul. I dreaded going in there. I mean, you’d think I’d be used to everyone thinking I’m an asshole. I pretty much go through the same thing at any family function that involves aunts, uncles and cousins.
But here’s the thing: I’m not very tough. I talk tough on the Internet like a lot of losers. I write things on the Internet, so I’m used to being called names. But in person, I don’t have thick skin. In the real world, I’m a softie. I sing along to Adele songs in the car. I get all choked up during that Budweiser commercial about the guy who raises the horse to become a Clydesdale horse, and then he misses the horse and three years later he goes to the Clydesdale parade, and then the horse runs after him and they hug. [sobs]
Turns out, all my fretting was for nothing. They were all nice as could be, which – of course – made me feel bad about my angry email, even though they deserved it, and I shouldn’t feel bad.
I’m sure someone is going to comment, “Why don’t you get contacts?” Don’t do that. I love glasses. They make me feel like I’m wearing a Sonia disguise.
I love my new glasses. I think they are great. I wish it hadn’t been such a pain in the ass to get them. Even though Lenscrafters tried to make it up to me, I will probably still take my business elsewhere. Turns out, my insurance is accepted by some private practitioners, which is probably what I should have done in the first place.
Oh, by the way, when David went to pick up his glasses last week there was a flaw in the frames. They promised him new frames in a few days. A few days has turned into a week. I wouldn’t be surprised if on Wednesday David is told that his glasses will be ready on Saturday.