Dear Boots

Dear Boots

I am writing to complain about the customer service I received when using your online ordering system. May I start by saying congratulations to you for having online ordering in the first place. With a Boots store on pretty much every single corner in London, you wouldn't think one would be necessary - in fact, you have now expanded to the point where you are rivalling the pubs for pavement space.

However, I was most grateful for your technological advancement when I received an e-mail from you advertising the new FCUK overnight bag on sale at half its original price. Like most women in London - and indeed everywhere else in the world where consumerism has become a sport - I lose my mind a little when I see bags on sale. It doesn't really matter what they look like, nor what features they have. If it is a recognisable brand at a low price, I am all over it like a rash. So it was with great delight that I logged into my online account to place my order for this coveted product.

Imagine how much more elated I became when I saw that not only was the bag on sale, but it was also filled with FCUK products. Then imagine further still, how the shopping endorphins in my brain kicked into crazy mode when I saw that all your gift packed products were 3 for 2. Obviously this meant I had to buy another two gifts - I mean, I am a woman and powerless to resist the lure of sales. You know your target audience well, Boots, and for that I must extend further congratulations.

I'm on a shopping high here - can you feel me? Right. Well, imagine then how devastated I was when my computer crashed as I placed the order. The potential for diaster was monumental. What if someone else snapped up MY bag because the stupid computer failed to do what I told it? I therefore did what any self respecting woman would do - I immediately went back in and placed the order again. Without checking whether or not it had gone through the first time. Let me pause here to explain: sales wipe all reason from a woman's mind. But you know this - in fact, you prey on it. Hence I cannot be held responsible for my impulsive action here.

10 minutes later, I was mildly concerned to note that in my inbox were two receipts for two orders placed with you - order 62293163 and order 62293121, to be precise. Obviously my computer was not as stupid as I first thought. Briefly I considered keeping them both. Two FCUK overnight bags, two No 7 cosmetics cases and 2 gorgeous Soap and Glory toiletry cases all stuffed full of goodies would not be considered a bad thing in any woman's diary, not to mention the free gift of a No 7 clutch bag filled with yet more treats. However, I did have to consider the wrath of The Boyfriend, and decided to cancel one of the orders.

This is where my complaint comes in - if you thought I have been side-tracked enough reliving my perfect shopping moment to forget the purpose of my letter, you're wrong. When I called your customer service helpline, I was informed that you would not be able to cancel the order, and that I would have to wait until it was despatched from the warehouse before cancellation was possible. I thought this strange - after all, if you're going to cancel an order, would you not save yourself the hassle of despatching it and then hunting it down for return once it was already on its way? Anyway, mine not to question why, mine but to shop or die.

I waited the 2 days that I was told it would take for the despatch notes to be e-mailed to me, and called up your customer services once again. This time I was told that as I had elected to pick the goods up in my local store, I would have to get a refund in that store. Again, I thought this strange. When you have an online ordering system, is not customary to handle all online issues through a central office? Never mind.

I went along to my local Boots in Kingsway yesterday at lunch, and explained my situation to the manager there. He handed me my first order, which had been delivered that morning, but said to me he didn't think he could give me a refund as the second order was only due to be delivered on Friday (note: 2 identical orders placed literally seconds apart, get delivered 3 days apart? Houston, we have a problem). Immediately on my guard, I explained that I was not going to leave the store until someone somewhere told me how the hell to get my refund.

The manager kindly offered to phone your online customer service and sort out the situation for me. 15 bloody minutes later, he finally got off the phone and came back to me - surely you can afford a few more call centre operators? According to the person on the other end of the phone, the only way I can get a refund for my second, accidental order is to - wait for it - WAIT three days until it arrives in my local store, make another trip down there (because in case you have forgotten, I already made a trip today to pick up order no 62293163) and request a refund upon seeing the order.

Ok, back up. Do you mean to tell me that, with all the technological advances in the world of retail, with all the foresight and research that has gone into making online shopping the method of choice for women across the world, with all your money and power and sway over the helpless consumers in the UK, you cannot hire ONE PERSON to do refunds from a central point for all online transactions? Do you honestly expect me to believe that everytime a consumer needs to cancel an item ordered online, she must high tail it across London, through the wind and the rain, to an actual Boots store, to launch an aggressive attack about refunds upon store managers who don't even know how the process works? Are. You. MAD??????????????????????

I cannot believe that in this day and age, I as a customer have to freaking run around after my own money, all because YOU cannot implement an effective online ordering support system.

I'm not writing because I want freebies (although should you want to send me some, I would accept them gracefully - my address is in your database), nor am I writing to try score points on my Boots card (although I would welcome the addition of the points I should have recieved today for my first order, as the store in question did not have the facilities to add them. Seriously? I mean, of all the.... seriously?????)

What I want is for you to refund me as any other company in the world would - by using the debit card details I entered into your system, and cancelling my collection with the store. It's not hard people, come on.

Make it happen. I know you can. Don't make me wear out my River Island stiletto boots walking 0.73 miles to your store for the second time on Friday. It's unethical, it's cruel, and most importantly, its unprofessional. You're better than that. Don't let me down.

Yours sincerely

Lopz

Note: this letter refers to an actual event, and has been sent verbatim to Boots Customer Services.

Recipe For Success

Ingredients

1 x hungover girlfriend (a wide range of cocktails should be guzzled the previous evening to achieve full effect)
1 x irritatingly bouncy boyfriend
1 x smallish shopping centre just a five minute bus ride away

Instructions

Put boyfriend and girlfriend on bus. Girlfriend should be clutching stomach while trying to hear boyfriend's conversation over pounding in her head. Complaining is not permitted - no escape routes should be presented to boyfriend at any time. NB: Enthusiasm may be false - watch out!

Walk around centre at top speed, zipping in and out of individual shops like slinky springs down the stairs. Boyfriend should remain annoyingly upbeat; girlfriend may be slightly cheered at sight of massive shoe sale. Sulking inevitable when boyfriend takes girlfriend's hand and forcibly drags her in opposite direction.

Enter suit shop. Try not to act intimidated. Stride around with sense of purpose, carefully avoiding smirks of sales assistants. Browse through rail upon rail of suits of all sizes, cuts and prices. Act like you know what you're doing. Turn down offer of help from smug sales assistant - you know you will end up buying something you don't like just to get rid of him. Unite in confusion - leave shop empty handed.

Girlfriend to remain sulky. Boyfriend to sigh and tut loudly, but due to inexplicable good mood, eventually gives in gracefully. Boyfriend should take girlfriend to shoe sale and buy her a pair of metallic stripper stilettos. Girlfriend miraculously recovers and outdoes boyfriend in enthusiasm stakes.

Exit mall. Begin browsing shops along main road. Boyfriend's spirits begin to flag; girlfriend to will them both on through euphoria produced by new shoes. Enter final suit shop. Demeanour should be be cautious yet hopeful.

Find fantastic luxury black suit marked down to half price. JACKPOT! Also find FCUK thin long sleeved hoody. Boyfriend ecstatic - well, as ecstatic as men can get when shopping. Buzz heightened by type of booty collected: 1 practical item (essential for men to feel they are not being frivolous) and 1 coveted item.

Arrive home 3 hours later. Girlfriend should now be 100% back to normal, and still on a high which is only increased each time she gazes upon the perfection of the stilettos. Boyfriend to immediately plant himself on couch, crack a beer and put the footie on.

Balance is restored.

Serves 2 full portions of satisfaction.

I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For (it's right under your nose, you ogre)

Wow, so it’s been a while! I decided to take a bit of time out to get my job situation sorted, seeing as how during my job hunt last year I spilled every detail on my blog, and eventually realised the pitfalls of putting your hopes and dreams out there and then having to admit you failed. There’s no shame in it, but it’s twice as bitter a pill to swallow when it feels like the whole world is watching (ok sorry, I had a momentary Britney-complex there; I meant when my small but faithful group of readers is watching!).

So I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know that it is 100% sorted now, and I start my new job at an awesome Commercial Media Group, which owns some of the most popular radio stations and magazines in the UK, on Monday. The role is a newly created one, and I will be PA to the Commercial Director, supporting both him and the main sales team and also assisting with the co-ordination of company events. Pretty much all I was looking for wrapped in the attractive packaging of a young, trendy and very sociable crowd. I am pretty pleased with myself!

In the few remaining days at my current temp job, I am interspersing the boring complexities of dvd planning with the infinitely more exciting sales on Ebay. My current obsession is historical fiction, and I’ve been buying several series that will hopefully see me through the long cold winter here in London. Also, shopping on Ebay releases the endorphins my brain so desperately needs to concentrate on the menial tasks at hand. Never has a job ever been less “me”.

Speaking of my need to shop, on Saturday I had to take Shoes on our bi-annual Clothes For Him Hunt, otherwise known as The Shopping Trip From Hell. Even for one who is as addicted to shopping as I am, this is a challenge unlike any other, and I don’t mean that in a good way. To get the perfect formula for this event, one should have the following:

1 x deeply reluctant boyfriend
1 x falsely cheery and extremely determined girlfriend
1 x mall of reasonable size – do not attempt the latest airport sized shopping centre boasting 987 shops, an entertainment complex and a food court to rival a country fair. Doing so will spell certain death for the already fragile relationship.
1 x book of Reasons Why You Should Buy This, memorized word for word with lightning recall ability. This is important: you will have only seconds in which to seal the deal – know your arguments!

THE CHASE
Take the deeply reluctant boyfriend and the extremely determined girlfriend and put them in the mall. Have the girlfriend map out the quickest route to all Man Shops, avoiding any or all of the following: shoe shops, underwear shops, women’s clothing shops, any shops selling teddy bears or schmaltzy cards and, most importantly, any signs screeching 50% OFF SALE – TODAY ONLY!!!!! Unless the sign is in a Man Shop, in which case, plan your route around it.

Have the girlfriend lead the boyfriend on the planned retail route, stopping in each shop for a quick once over (remember, men are experts at quick once overs), asking him at each stop whether he sees anything he likes. He may not answer no to more than 2 shops in a row – this is known as the Covert Cop Out, in which the boyfriend pretends to hate everything in order to cut the trip short so he can go home and play on his Xbox.

THE SIGHTING
When he expresses interest in something, however vague, the girlfriend should encourage him with compliments, such as “This would look great with your eyes.” It is important to note that the compliments should be in direct proportion to the kinds of compliments she normally gives him. Saying “Saints alive, you look so hot in those jeans I want to rip them off you and do you against the wall!” when you normally don’t even look at what he’s wearing, will not only incite suspicion on the boyfriend’s part, but will probably result in the compliment becoming an actual event (he’s a man, he’s not going to say no), getting you both thrown out of the mall and forcing you to start the whole Shopping Trip From Hell all over again elsewhere.

THE KILL
The girlfriend must gently guide the boyfriend through the labyrinth that is the floor display, remembering at all times to make any selections seem like his choice, even when they’re obviously hers. She should not attempt to dress him – this infringes on his manhood. There is a pearl of wisdom that all women should know: men are afraid of shops. Shops confuse the shit out of them. Where we see oceans of possibility, they see great white sharks coming to drag them into the murky depths of endless queues and mystifying choices. When he picks out something, she should quietly - but not manically - congratulate him.

THE RETREAT
Once several items have been purchased the boyfriend will begin to make unhappy noises about tired feet/grave hunger pains/severe boredom/the unfinished game on his Xbox. Note: sometimes this phase occurs after only one item has been purchased. In this case, the girlfriend should redouble her efforts and if necessary, entice him to keep looking by making absurd promises that she has no intention of keeping, such as a whole day of uninterrupted Xbox magic with all his mates.

The girlfriend will know how far she can push her boyfriend. She must gently but firmly use every feminine wile in the book to ensure that he stays in the mall as long as possible, so as to maximise the output of her efforts. Remember, you do not want to do this again any time soon. It is important to note as well that tantrums will not achieve the desired effect. Trying to force a man to shop will only result in the most passive form of resistance possible – he will literally plant himself down at the closest eatery that serves beer and refuse to go anywhere unless you hand over the car keys.

THE PAY-OFF
Once the trip is over and the now slightly more even-tempered boyfriend and the extremely exhausted girlfriend are back at home, there is only one rule: What happened at the mall, stays at the mall. All bets are off. Promises made are empty, threats may not be carried out. The couple should agree to put the trauma of the trip in the past, and neither may mention it again until 6 months later and it is time for another.

How lucky for me, then, that last Saturday was so spectacularly unsuccessful that we have to do it again this weekend.

The photographer took bullshitting to new levels.

Downtown Girls

I just had the most girly weekend ever.

Shoes was in Chippenham visiting G-Days (who has to live out in the sticks due to engineering jobs being scarce in London - tough times for him!), so I decided to make the most of my singledom and live it up with the chicks.

It all kicked off on Friday night with Chicks Night out. We went to Henry J Beans in Wimbledon, a pub known for its overpriced cocktails and cheesy music, but revered for it's two for one happy hour specials and permission for all kinds of drunken behaviour that would get you kicked out in Central London hotspots. It's also very close to home for everyone, so we can stagger home unassisted by our usual escourts (the equally drunk but belligerent men).

It began with the standard procedure of any chicks night: a large bottle of champagne, cocktail swapping and much high pitched squealing. When I look at this objectively, I can't help but wonder what reduces our voices to the decibels of 10 year old boys on nights like this, but in the moment it is just contagious. One chick squeals with delight as a friend arrives, and before you know it, all are squealing like stuck pigs in various states of excitement or hilarity. I don't know....but it's fun! The night was carnage. Scarf and Penguin has to be packed into a cab at 11pm as they were just to wasted to be seen in public. Neither of them remember getting home or what they did when they got there. I stayed with the others til then end, and got home about 2:30am. I was very drunk, make no mistake, but held it together well enough to a) remember everything and b) not cause any major scenes (just a few minor ones, which can't be helped - it's Chicks Night after all!).

To my abject horror, I awoke from the dead at the hour of 8:15am, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't fall back asleep. This is normal for me, as is waking up early after a night of heavy drinking. Unfortunately for me on this occaasion, I had promised Mandz I'd spend the entire day shopping with her. I must say, with more than just a hint of pride, that I am a trooper. Dogs may be man's best friend; I am clearly woman's. I trekked through to Camden with Mandz for a mammoth 8 hour shopping spree, that included just one brief stop at Starbucks to rest our weary feet. Since I had already bought 2 pairs of shoes, a pair of jeans and a top the previous week, I was on a No Spending Spree. £60 later and the dust was settling on my lofty goal. At least I now have TWO pairs of fabulous jeans, and enough tops so that I can wear a different new one every day this week.

Saturday night I crashed on the couch and didn't leave it until I fell awoke from falling asleep in front of Lord of the Rings. It's an excellent movie to dos through - long enough so that your nap feels quite revitalising.

Sunday was spent on the couch again with TheArtyOne and Scarf, watching America's Next Top Model, Lipstick Jungle and PS I Love You. I am so chicked out I think I might need to go on a Guys Night to lower my oestrogen levels!

Made For This

I have had a brief moment of respite from the boredom that is my "job" today. In an unexpected and rather wonderful turn of events, Shoes got paid today. 5 days early. Not only is this fabulous because we literally had no more money for the month (as in, we're eating sandwiches on week old bread for dinner on Sunday and Monday night), but also because I got to relieve my boredom by SHOPPING!!!! Had to use capitals to convey my extreme pleasure. I feel energised and full of hope for the future - it's a total 180 degree turn! Shopping should be used as therapy for men hell-bent on starting wars. I challenge any testosterone overloaded male to go on an unlimited spending spree in wihch he can buy whatever he wants... with all those ferraris and speed boats at his disposal, why would he want to waste time getting mucky in the trenches? I choose to ignore the slight logistical issues of poverty and the fact that men by nature do not like to shop. This is my fantasy world, if I say they must shop, they will shop! And be happy about it!

I have personally spent a few awesome hours deliberating over which mp3 player to buy, and finally settled on the very latest Creative Lab, with 4GB of delicious space just waiting to be flooded by the latest in cheesy pop. For the iPod army out there, I'm sorry but I choose to support the underdog (ie I don't have enough money for an iPod, so could the peanut gallery please be quiet!).

I hate to cut this post short, but I am in the middle of buying some sunglasses for Shoes, and after that I'm off to purchase a digital frame for my dad - oh how I LOVE pay day!