Warning: short uncharacteristic rant coming up (there is a point I promise).
5 months ago we bought a brand new oven. It was really expensive, and our tenants broke it. When we got back from Japan we called the company and they sent round an engineer to check it out. Apparently it needed two new parts. That was nearly three months ago. We have been waiting for the replacement parts ever since. I have called the company at least 15 times but every time I get fobbed off with ‘the part is still on order’ etc etc. This went on all through Christmas (yes it meant that we didn’t get to have Christmas dinner at home).
Last week I called and they said the parts had at last been dispatched to the engineer who would call me within 48 hours. That was five days ago. When I called today they said the parts had at last been dispatched to the engineer who would call me within 48 hours. So the woman I spoke to last week told me a blatant lie. No wonder the engineer never called.
Our oven is still broken, but that’s not the point.
The point is that by call number 15 (a total of about 4 hours on the phone listening to a holding message telling me how they pride themselves on product quality and customer service) I was understandably quite frustrated. I had been really polite every time, but by now I just wanted to scream in frustration (and have someone turn up on my doorstep with a shiny new oven).
And then, something brilliant happened. My man came in to my office, took me by the hand and led me to the middle of the room. He made me jump up and down, shake my arms around, and shout really loud. And he did it too. We looked like a pair of crazy people. And you can imagine that by the end of that we collapsed in laughter. And I felt a whole lot better about it. It’s bad enough having a broken oven. I don’t need a stress headache too.
As they say, you can’t control what happens to you, but you can control the way you let it affect you.
Lesson learnt.