Really, I can't make this stuff up. I could, but I wouldn't do this to my characters.
Oh hell, who I am kidding. I would. I have. Well, not this door saga specifically, but the level of frustration for sure. Maybe they're working with Home Depot to get back at me. I wouldn't put it past those resourceful bastards.
My world was semi-back to rights on Wednesday night when I got a call that my long lost door had arrived at the store. For my woes, my doors would be delivered for free. While I probably should have gone for more, I was sick of the whole situation and just wanted my damn doors delivered, so I went with it. It was too late to get them on Thursday's truck, but they would be out on Friday for sure.
Friday arrives. My long lost washing machine, also a month-long saga of woe and incompetence (by Lowes), arrived in the morning. Things were looking up. I got a call at 12:30 that my door would be delivered at the construction site in one hour.
An hour later, I drive out to the construction site. No one is there. I clean up a little, make some notes for the subcontractors and wait. And wait. They're forty minutes late. Granted, traffic can be delayed between here and there as there is bottleneck town on the highway, but forty minutes is way late even for that. I called the store. They promised to get ahold of the delivery guy and have him call me.
He doesn't call.
This shouldn't have surprised me. My optimism is sitting at the bottom of a pit along with my faith in home improvement store employees. But now optimism curled up in a little ball and started whimpering. Annoyed by the sound, I called the store again. They were surprised the driver hadn't called me back. They promised to call the delivery service office, as this was an outside company, and then call me back with an update.
They didn't call me back either.
Disgusted with the home improvement universe, I got in my car after an hour and half and drove home. Once there, I got a call from the store manager.
"We finally located the delivery truck."
"It broke down."
Dead silence on my end. What do I say to that? Okay, a thousand angry things come to mind, but I'm stuck on, "Are you freaking kidding me?"
"No, we're sorry. The driver really should have called you right away so you didn't have to wait for him. Your doors are on the box truck in a tow yard somewhere. We don't even have them in the store that you can come and pick them up."
Internal screaming and gnashing of teeth plays out for a few seconds before I can form words. "I wasted an hour and half and no one could call me? I have a ton of work to do. I didn't have an hour and a half to stand around. Your guy couldn't call me back twice? This is ridiculous. Are my doors cursed?"
I'm pretty sure they are.
"We're really sorry. We're going to try to rent a box truck and get them out to you on Saturday but it will be difficult because everyone is busy right now and there aren't many available to rent."
"I have an installer coming on Monday. They better be here."
"If not Saturday, then maybe Sunday."
"I don't care which, just get them here."
"Why don't you give us a call on Saturday to see where they're at?"
"Why don't you give me a call and Saturday and tell me where they're at. I don't have more time to waste on this. Get them here."
And so the waiting continues.