how to lose a customer

My Louis Vuitton Neverfull Tote — the one that half of Manhattan owns — is falling apart. 

One strap broke and the other is about to.  The stitching around the top of the bag is coming apart. The tote is only five years old so my hope is that LV via Bloomingdales (where I bought the bag in December of 2009) will fix it for free.  

But that is not what happens. Not even close.

I go to the LV boutique at Bloomingdales, and when the sales woman there can't help me, I ask for the manager. A well dressed, good-looking man approaches me with a smile and asks, "How are you today?"

I show the manager where the bag needs to be repaired. He looks at it and tells me that each strap will cost $110 to fix. That's $220.  And two years ago I spent $120 to fix a side strap that had broken. This bag is like maintaining a car.

After I digest the ridiculous repair cost, I tell the manager to go ahead and process the paper work. It's still a lot cheaper than a new bag.  

But then I notice the manager continuing to inspect my tote.  He looks up at me sadly,  and says, with sincere sadness, "I'm so sorry.  But here, look. Underneath this (the clover-shaped piece of leather that the strap attaches to) you can see a slight crack in the vinyl." He tries to show me but honestly, I can't see what he's talking about.

"Oh—kay," I say, still not sure where the conversation is heading.

"So we can send the tote back to our artisans, but it'll take four to six weeks weeks for you to get your bag back, and  I'm certain they will conclude the same thing." 

"Conclude what?" I ask.

"That they won't be able to fix it.  You see, if the vinyl is starting to crack, it could get worse if ....." but I am barely listening.  I am just hating Louis Vuitton.

Can Customer Service get any worse than this? 

I take my bag and leave. 

I jump on the subway up to Pavlos, the best shoe repair place on the Upper East Side, maybe Manhattan.

Michael, the magician there, looks at the bag.  "Sure, we can fix it. I can deliver it to you early next week.  Is that okay?" 

"Of course,"  I respond. "How much?"

"$20."  

Michael even poses for a picture when I ask. 

Perhaps Louis and his artisans should meet Michael and his. They would undoubtedly learn a lot.

how to keep a customer

Last October the yellow light on my laser printer starts blinking indicating  I'll soon be out of ink. I order a new HP 49X cartridge on Amazon, an expensive one. $130, but it prints up to 6,000 pages and will last me two years or more.

The new cartridge arrives and sits in my closet until last week. I guess the yellow blinking light gives you 6-months notice. I install the new cartridge and it prints worse than the cartridge it just replaced. The type is so light I can barely read it.

I call Amazon and they tell me I have to go through the seller before they can help. The seller is a company called Sell Toner -- not the most creative name but certainly a descriptive one. Judging from the seller's area code, I see the company is based in Utah.  I am not optimistic, especially since the cartridge is only guaranteed for 30 days, and it's been about 180.

I call the number and a woman answers, "Hello."  

Hello?  No automated voice instructing me to push different numbers for different departments. Not even a, "Hi. This is Karen. How can I help?"  

I hear a baby crying in the background. I can picture the scene, and the scene I picture is not a woman in a cube with headsets on in front of a computer.   Nonetheless,  I explain my problem, with no confidence at all that this experience is going to end well. 

After telling the woman about the defective product she says, "Let me get my Amazon liaison on the phone."   Really? Your Amazon liaison?  Who is that?  Your oldest son?  I am put on hold and then "Mike" picks up. He sounds like he may be on a chairlift.  I start to explain my problem and when I get to the part about why I didn't open the cartridge until 6 months after receiving it, Mike says, "Ya, I understand."  I get no "I'm sorry, you can only make a return within 30 days." Mike then adds, "No problem; I'm really sorry; I'll Fed Ex a new one out to you tonight."  (As soon as I'm done skiing for the day, I assume.  But I don't care. 

This whole experience has been nothing like what I'd expected. I'm not asked for proof of the defected cartridge. I am not asked to return it. I am not given a hard time about the 180 days. Nope, just a sincere apology, and a quick solution.  

My new cartridge arrives. It works fine. Sell Toner; I love you!

out with Jill, sort of

A few weeks ago I email my friend Jill about seeing The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time.  We've both heard amazing things about this play.

I don't mind going to theater alone, but it's always nicer to go with someone. So when Jill says she'd like to see the play too, we decide to get tickets.  

The reviews have been great, and good seats (for under $250) are hard to find.  Jill and I go online and discover that we have totally different seat preferences — I like orchestra while Jill prefers mezzanine. So we buy single seats.  We figure we'll meet up before. But then somehow that doesn't happen.

I have a great seat, but bad neighbors. I am squished in between two gigantic people, both of whom have claimed our shared seat rest.  The woman to my right is soaked in some awful-smelling perfume that is making me nauseous. And the guy in front of me is whistling, a habit I hate. Almost as annoying as someone snapping their gum.

But once the play begins, I forget my surroundings. The Curious Incident is a mesmerizing story and an emotional one. The physicality of the actors is impressive. The sensational young lead is a recent Juilliard graduate. And the inventiveness of the staging is truly extraordinary. 

At intermission, I find Jill upstairs in her great mezzanine seat (I think she made the wiser choice). We talk for five minutes, if that.  Then the lights dim, the second act begins, and I make it back into my seat (in that order).

I don't see Jill again.

While it's always better to see a play with a friend, sometimes it doesn't quite work out that way, even when that's the plan.

a new job

Last week Janice calls. She's an ex-Horace Mann mom, ob/gyn, runner, skier, and makes everyone around her look like a slug (though not intentionally). 

"Hi, I know this is a crazy idea, and feel free to say no, but my receptionist is going to be out for a couple of days next week and I was wondering if you'd like to fill in for her?"  I immediately say yes.

I tell M — the M who sits on a couple of boards, was President of a major company, and is degreed from two ivies. "I'd love to do that," she says.  "It's something I've always wanted to do.  That, and be a mail carrier." 

Another very accomplished friend tells me that she'd be happy driving one of those NYC street-cleaning vehicles. "I'd get to drive recklessly, beep my horn at everybody, and still be providing a good service for the city."

Another friend, this one with a droll personality and dry wit, once told me she'd like to be an indexer. "You know, the person who cites that any mention of Lincoln can be found on pages 18, 35, 226, and 334-338."

So today is my first day as a receptionist. I have to admit, I'm a little nervous. But Janice makes it easy, as do her nurse and her patients. Soon, I am answering and scheduling with  ease. 

I work from 8 to 2, then grab a quick bite, and go to Bellmarc where I'm on office duty for a few hours. No one comes in looking for a new home.

Tomorrow I go back for my second and last day as a receptionist. It's nice to do a job and then get paid for it. It's been a while since I've had that kind of job. I miss it.

passover at jill's

The Boston-part of my family left today, and the remaining New York side celebrates the second night of Passover at Jill's (Abbey's sister). 

The food again is excellent and plentiful. And the Seder again is short.  Well, tonight's Seder consists solely of the blessing over bread, so short is a bit overstated.   

At the table, Adam has a great suggestion. "Let's go around the room and have each person tell us their favorite new apps." I have nothing to add, but at least I am asked; a few people aren't even asked.  

So here's a short list of the ones I can't wait to try.

Via

Shared car service 

between 32nd Street and 110th

6:45 to 9pm

$5.44 per ride; not bad when a bus is $2.75

Instacard

Delivery in in two hours for $3.99 (orders must be over $35)

Includes Costco (you don't even have to be a member)

Fairway, Whole Foods and Trader Joes

Google Shopping Express

Same day delivery; orders must be over $15

Stores include Costco, Taget, Fairway, Staples and others

Flavour

A new restaurant discovery app

Pre-selects based on criteria you input
More selective than menu pages

Camcard

Scans and stores business cards

Keeper

Password manager

The Skimm
This isn't an app, but rather a daily newsletter of top stories
How did dId I not know about this?

And while these don't fit my current lifestyle, they sound great anyway:

Docusign

Easy way to store and use an electronic signature

Pager

Doctor comes to you

Shout

Way to "buy" or "sell" reservations to hot restaurants, events, etc.

Glamsquad

Hair and/or makeup stylists come to you

Handy

Book trusted home cleaners and handymen

Emojii Me

Turn your selfies into emojiis

After dinner, the men retreat to the living room to watch the end of the final four game, Duke vs. Michigan State. The woman move to the kitchen. And Amanda teaches Rita how to text.

All around, it's a tech-happy Seder.

passover at val's

Jean, Jim, Jack and my mom are coming up from Massachusetts. Rita is flying in from Florida. And Amanda just got in from China last night. Missing will be some grandkids — Jessica, Michael, Sally and Alexander. Still, it'll be a nice family get-together.

We are celebrating the first night of Passover at Val's home. Of course Abbey lives there too, but it's Val who makes the meal, creates the beautiful table, and hosts the evening with both glamour and perfection.

We observe the Passover rituals, to some extent. Everyone gets a Haggadah — the ones with the yellow and red covers; the same as I remember from childhood. The seder plate is reviewed. Some are better than others at remembering the meaning of each symbolic food on the plate. We sing a song in Hebrew. And the door is left open for Elijah. It's an abbreviated version of a traditional seder.

The best part of course is celebrating together. 

My mom and Rita, 85 and 91 respectively, are a great example of living a vital life well past middle age. They both dress beautifully, live active lives, have many friends, and keep their minds and bodies challenged through golf, cards, daily walks, and reading. They are aware of all the breaking news stories and celebrity gossip. They both drive, live alone, are proudly independent, and use their iPads regularly. They have great senses of humor, and consider themselves lucky as they look around the table at their families. In truth, we are the lucky ones to have them at the head.

Following dinner, everyone willingly, though reluctantly, sits for a picture. Jack, who has become the family photographer, gets his camera, tripod, and remote, and everyone smiles. 

First the group.

And then me, my mom and sisters.

Happy Passover everyone.

a new whole foods

Recently a Whole Foods opens on the Upper East Side; today I go.

The store takes up an entire city block and occupies two levels. I'm sure it'll take some getting used to, but right now it feels overwhelming, especially since I don't know where anything is. That I expect. What I don't expect is for the sales people to be as as new to the store as I am.

I ask one clerk where the check out lines are, and she directs me to the lower floor. I even question her, but she insists with conviction, "You have to go downstairs." Another WF employee overhears and shakes her head. "It's right over there," she says, and points to a section about ten feet from where I'm standing. On the street level.  

I ask another employee where the yogurt covered pretzels are and he says, "It's in the bulk food section. You know where that is, right?" I don't even know what the bulk food section looks like unless I'm in Costco where everything qualifies as bulk food. At Fairway, they would have walked me to the right section.  Someone should create some kind of map app for this store.

When I was up in Boston, M and I went grocery shopping at a Whole Foods in Newtonville. Out of curiosity, I keep the receipt.  Today I buy two of my favorite items: Mom's Chicken Soup for $6.99 (thank-you Gail for the recommendation) and the yogurt-covered pretzels for $5.49 (thank you M). The pricing in Boston is the same as New York. Anyone reading this from Nebraska, South Dakota or Arkansas? It'd be interesting to know if the pricing is the same nationwide.

WF has a prepared tuna fish salad that I love, so I replicated it at home. If you are a tuna-fish eater, you might like this:

Can (or two) of tuna packed in water

Salt and Pepper

Cut up dried cranberries 

Cut up fuji apple 

Mix above together.

Add mayo.

When I'm providing recipes, you'd be right to assume it's a slow news day.