Barnes ampersand Noble - corporate asshats

Yes, I know that is a harsh assessment of what is probably America’s largest & most beloved bookseller, but it is unfortunately accurate. Come listen to my tale of woe and, ultimately, satisfaction (though not from Barf & No-Balls).
Once upon a time I had a B&N discount card (only $25/year!). As you might deduce from the title of this post, I no longer “enjoy” my 10% member discount. Our story begins just about a year ago (Jun ‘08). I had a B&N gift card, so I decided to buy some books I had been wanting. They were all sequels to a book I had previously read, Kushiel’s Dart by Jacqueline Carey (I highly recommend it BTW). I figured I’d order the next few entries in the series, the newest of which was hardcover.
I love to read, but being a busy mom of 2 I don’t have a ton of extra time to sit around reading and eating bon-bons and getting my nails done (wish in one hand and wet in the other & see which one fills up first, as my dear grandmother used to say). I received my order of 5 books, but didn’t have a chance to start them, plus it had been a while since I had read the first one so I wanted to “start fresh” with it.
Fast forward to a few weeks ago (insert cool Wayne’s World sound effect here). I picked up the first book and started it. I got thru with that one and started the second (are you sensing a pattern here?) After that, the third one. All were as good as the first and I was eager to start the 4th in the series, which is told from a different character’s perspective.
So I settle in with volume 4 and begin reading. I am enjoying it as much as the first 3. I get to chapter 4. I reach the end of page 48, and the end of a sentence. I move to the top of the next page, but it is the middle of a sentence. I scan back to page 48, thinking maybe I missed the beginning of the sentence, but no, it ends there. SO I look back at the next page, and what is written doesn’t even make sense with what I had been reading. So I glance at the top of the page and see the number 81 staring at me. 81?! WTF? 33 pages are missing! I flip thru the book to see of maybe some of the pages got put in the wrong order during the binding process. Nope. All the other pages seem to be right where they are, but pages 49-80 seem to have disappeared into a black hole or another dimension. I imagine they are bunking with Paris Hilton’s modesty or Kate Gosselin’s maternal instinct.
I sit down at my computer & look up good old B&N’s website. I find my order history, pull up the specific order and call their customer service number, as there doesn’t seem to be an FAQ titled “My book is missing some pages! What the fudge?” This being a Sunday evening, I figured to get the good old “Our regular business hours are ____to____ Monday thru Friday & ____ to ____ on Saturday. Please call back then”. Lo & behold, I actually got thru. I had to go off the board & press “0” since speaking to an actual person (I won’t say “American” because we all know THAT tune) wasn’t one of the menu choices given. I just tend to press zero until I get Rajesh or get hung up on. That’s just how I roll.
I was connected to Melissa, whose lovely greater NYC accent perfectly fit my mood. I explained the situation, and she very nicely informed me that since their return policy is 14 days that I was basically SOL.
Thinking maybe she didn’t understand, I reiterated that the book was defective, missing 33 pages. It wasn’t like I just decided I didn’t want it, or had received 2 copies of it as gifts. Nope, she had understood perfectly. I asked Melissa, very politely, if she thought it was reasonable to expect that when one purchases a book that one should flip thru it to make sure all the pages are there. She said “I can’t say what someone else might do”. I asked her if SHE would do that. She never actually answered me.
At this point I am getting a bit frustrated, but manage to keep my cool. I take a different approach. I say “What if this were a CD that was missing a song, or a DVD that is missing a chapter?” No dice. If it is after the 14 day return period, no returns are accepted. I said “Even though the book is obviously defective and could be returned to the publisher for credit?” Even that, apparently, did not sway her to my way of thinking.
I take the next step up the customer service staircase and ask for a supervisor. She verifies my e-mail & billing address and puts me on hold. She comes back on the line to tell me no supervisor is available (shock) and could someone call me back. I said of course and give her my phone number. She said it will most likely be the next day. I am OK with this since I know it is Sunday nite and all.
To cover all my bases, I send an e-mail to their customer service, not letting on that I had already spoken with someone (squeaky wheel & all). I also looked up the publisher online where, wonder of wonders, one of their customer service e-mail categories is for “defective books”. I shoot them an e-mail as well as a photo I take of the pages in question, so they can see I’m not a crackpot trying to get something for nothing. I wonder if this is what Melissa over at B&N thinks and decide I really don’t care.
Around 8 PM that evening I receive the auto-response e-mail from B&N. You know the one, thanks for contacting us, we will get back to you as soon as we can, blah blah blah. No more than I expected.
Monday morning dawns bright & sunny. At about 11 AM I receive an e-mail from the publisher. The are genuinely sorry, but I appear to have received a book which slipped thru their QC process. They are forwarding me a new copy via UPS and would I please destroy the old one. She also thanked me for the picture I sent and said she would forward it to the QC dept. Now THAT, my friends, is what I call good customer service.
I reply thanking her for the quick response, resisting the urge to bad-mouth B&N to her, as I am sure she doesn’t care. I did mention in my original e-mail that B&N was declining to help me since it was past the return period.
All day Monday, no call from B&N, nor an e-mail from customer service. Tuesday arrives as hot & sunny as Monday. I go about my daily activities.
About 3 PM I receive a call on my cell phone (the number I had given Melissa). It was a “supervisor” from B&N. I put that in quotation marks because he sounded like he would be better suited to asking if I wanted fries with that, or did I want paper or plastic for my groceries.
I re-told my story to him, but he was as unyielding as Melissa had been. He was “very sorry” but since it was such a long time after the return period they could do nothing, even though the item is clearly defective. I went thru my entire argument again, waiting for just the right moment to tell him he could suck it. And so I did, not in those words exactly, but I let him know that the publisher had already shipped a replacement. I also asked him if he was happy that he had lost a customer over an $8 paperback. He responded with the usual scripted “I’m sorry you feel that way ma’am” and we parted ways amicably. I’m sure in the grand scheme of things one mom from Ohio doesn’t matter a whole lot to them, and that’s ok. I felt better getting it off my chest. And I am very proud of myself for not crying or cussing while I did it. I tend to over-personalize these types of things and, therefore, to over-react to them.
I know that I had waited too long past the return period, but it isn’t like I just decided I didn’t want the darn thing. And I’m guessing it is an impersonal corporate thing, since yesterday I returned some contact lens cleaning solution to my local grocery store (retail price $5.99) that was irritating my eyes. The guy at the service counter had me get a new one and on my way I went. Perhaps if I had taken the book to a store and spoken to someone in person I might have been able to swap it out for a new copy. But we will never know, will we? Because I will never buy from B&N again, online or in a store.
I will now buy from Amazon (free 2-day shipping with Amazon Prime!!!) or my local bookseller.