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Gap Inc., Banana Republic Can be a Costly Mistake, Horrid Customer Service, Limitless Audacity, Losing Money, Feeling Cheated and Robbed Groveport Ohio
October 14 was not a usual day for me. It was the first weekend after the news of my sister’s breast cancer took us by storm and turned around our lives. The previous days had been full of all shades of emotion – fear for my sister, worry for my elderly parents, anger that it happened to my younger sis and not me, concern that all this would affect the lives of the kids, and so on. These days had also been hectic, the kind of hectic which only despair can bring about, with a hundred things completed in three days. We had half a dozen more medical examinations, we mobilized and consulted every cancer survivor who had up to fifth degree friend-of-friendship with us, we identified all the best medical hospitals, doctors and resources in Armenia where we live, as well as in the neighboring Georgia, Russia, and Germany and France all of which are better equipped. We also conducted a thorough price-quality comparative analysis by country, saw a dozen doctors and drew the full plan of treatment involving four stages and three different countries.
Let’s just make it clear, when you’re Armenian the line between you and your sister or any other family member is very fragile, and anything that happens to one, happens to all. So in that first weekend, I stayed home, fully drained of energy and emotion, and surrendered to the loving care of my husband and son. My brain was still returning to the bulk of information of the previous days, trying to figure out if we had done all correctly, and if we had not missed anything important. I had hectic heart-bits from time to time – evidence of stress I’d been through. I knew I had to do something to relax.
There is hardly anything more relaxing to me than online shopping. A celebrated shopaholic, I always boasted a good sense of quality and style, and the ability to land exclusive deals. I could go through lists of apparel, shoes and accessories for hours. It had the same effect on me, as a good movie has on most. “Take a dosage of Amazon and Nordstrom”, says my husband laughingly when I’m stressed or angry. I’m one of those happy women whose husband possesses the immense love, sense of humor and middle-class income to allow me regular shopping-dozes. So no wonder I took to Amazon and Nordstrom, and ended up in Bananarepublic – a frequent shopping site for me.
I was going through sales items and placing those I liked in my shopping bag. Blouses for work, blouses for party, pins and scarves, shorts for my son, shirts for my hubby, blue ones, beige ones, all different types and colors – let’s just compile, we’ll select later. There was a special code to be applied for extra discount, and I was interested to see what the prices would make after the code and decide to buy or not, and if yes, which items. When it comes to codes, Banana is sort of weird - it does not allow to apply a code unless you sign in. So I signed in and wrote the code in the relevant box.
“Mom, want a new joke?” my teenage son’s head appeared in the doors of the living-room where I sat on the coach with my laptop on my knees. He’s head-to-toy into building his image as the “funniest guy” in the neighborhood. “I wish he was half as much into studying”, I thought. I ought to forbid him watch Friends, and stop all this Chandler-Bing-thing. “Sure, sweetheart”, I expressed the mommy-smile and patently listened through his hundredth joke of the day, which by the way are usually really funny. “It’s cute,” I voiced my verdict, “I thought you were doing maths”. “Ya-aah”, he greened, and his talking head disappeared. I returned my attention to the website and pressed the “apply” (code) button.
It took me an instant to understand that instead I had pushed the “Place order” button, the large orange one situated slightly below the "apply" (code) one. No, no, no. It was a disaster. I did not need all those things. I was just playing around. My shopping bag contained a lot of similar items – the same shorts in different colors, similar blouses only one of which was to be bought, if ever, several brooches to select from, and so on. But wait, what is all this fuss about. Just cancel the order. I immediately went to “my orders” and tried to cancel it. As a rule websites have a cancellation option active within one hour after placing the order. There was no such option here. Strange and weird. But then, so what. Let’s just ask a rep to cancel it. I tried to find the online chat– there was none either. Huh? Perplexed.
So what again - I tried to calm myself. We can simply email them. It’s not some backyard company. It’ Banana Republic. Not, it’s THE Banana Republic with all its quality, service and technologies. It has the 7 days a week customer service, and it was only early morning in the US, someone was sure to get back to me shortly. So I emailed the customer service asking to cancel my order which was made by mistake. My eyes automatically turned to the clock on the side of the laptop screen. Good, I lost only some 3 minutes after placing the order. Plenty of time for canceling it.
Time was flying by, and I was getting no response to my email. Instead I received a shipping confirmation for one of the items. Horrified, I looked again at the clock on the laptop – it was only 1.5 hours since I placed the order and emailed them to cancel it. I pulled myself together. It’s not a big deal, only a scarf, quite manageable. Let’s just make sure no further shipments are made. I took to my Samsung Galaxy. God bless Viber. I pushed the buttons severely, as if the solution of the issue depended on how hard I could push. A minute, two, five, ten… it was a permanent "all our customer service agents are busy". I was losing hope and losing patience. But then… I am not one of those easy give-up gals. No cancel is an invariant, I thought, there must be some mistake here. Let’s just let these people know how bad the situation can get.
I went back to my laptop and wrote a second email explaining the whole complication of the situation - that I reside in a different country, and that the shipping address belongs to a private shipping company in the US, which automatically sends items forward to my country and charges me very high per kilo rates. Not only I would have to pay high shipping for stuff I did not need, but also would have to pay even higher rates to send them back to the US. I was pleading to cancel my order before it was too late. Please people, please. It’s just impossible that a customer cannot cancel an order made by one small mistaken push of a button. Please people, just cancel that goddamn order... Then I received an email from them. But wait, what is it? Yes, it is just a second shipping notification – a second item from my shopping bag was forwarded to me.
“No, I’m not letting this happen to me”, I thought. Desperate and furious, I took to the most reliable loudspeaker of our times – the social media. A Facebook message, then a Twitter message, and then just in case another email. No response. In the meanwhile the Bananarepublic page on Facebook shone with a brand new post of the latest merino sweaters – so soft and warm that it made me even more furious. Obviously, there were people working on the page right here and now, but they bluntly ignored my message. I messaged again – hey, people making posts, here I am and here is my issue. Nope, hopeless silence. I wrote several more emails, I called several more times – hopeless again. Instead, I continued receiving 'your item is shipped’ emails. Seven emails, two Facebook messages, Twitter messages, social media posts, and many phone call – and not one single response, while obviously they saw them. What were they thinking, I was curious, when they saw somebody so desperately trying to get their attention. Perhaps having fun? Look at this lunatic from God-knows-where, let’s make bets on how long it will be till she writes again. Or maybe getting irritated? Look at this lunatic from God-knows-where, interesting how long it will be till she gets tired of writing. Later on I was googling articles on bad customer service and saw an old poster running “Someone calling themselves a customer says they want something called service”. Right. Couldn’t resist sharing it with them. Why not? They are having fun anyway.
It was two days, or to be precise, 46 hours later, that Banana Republic got back to me at last. “We are experiencing high email volume”, Lisa from Banana Republic wrote, “We have a couple of options that may work for you”. Oh, I loved Lisa’s “couple of options”. They were number one – return items by post, and number two – return them into one of our stores. She also offered to apply to my order the extra 10% discount which I was trying to do when I pushed the wrong button. Wow! How was that line of Lermontov?! Right – “It would almost be funny, if it wasn’t so sad”.
I responded with a “wake up and get serious” challenge. Just in case I also communicated my message via Facebook and Twitter. And sure I got a “serious” response – Tara offered me 15% discount for my next purchase. Tara, so very nice of you, but please make an effort and apply some imagination to understand what you have to do with your 15% discount. Because this sounded like “let’s see how much you cost” as if trading with a hooker in the street. Because it was virtually impossible that a person cannot cancel the order made by mistake within minutes. Because it was a cheap and mean corporate game which I do not allow to play on me. Because at some other time I would perhaps get a good laugh out of this, but not now. Now I was too serious. Now I was ready to fight - to fight my sister’s cancer, to fight any hesitation that we would succeed, to fight political correctness and call a robber a robber, to fight the cheap manners of Lisa and Tara, to fight the mean robbery, audacity, low values and limitless ignorance of Banana Republic.