Sunday, March 21, 2010
Well, it’s been a while since I fragged Sears, so here goes. When we last left our intrepid brand, they had set up a community site with more obstacles than a health bill trying to pass the House. HAR!
This time, I needed a battery. One, lousy car battery.
Rather than drop $124 at Meineke, I released my inner DIY’er and hit Sears online. Of course, you ain’t getting the “As low as” price for the battery you need, but I did find one that didn’t hurt too much. Google Sears + discount code and look at me saving another $5. Because I ordered online for store pick-up, I figured this would be no harder than picking up a pizza.
Having ordered what amounts to New Zealand’s GNP throughout the years, I can safely say that I haven’t had to jump through the ordering hoops that Sears.com made me jump through for one, lousy car battery.
I expect to fill out credit card info, no problem. But then, they require verification of who will be picking up the item. To the point that they asked a series of questions regarding recent purchases not made at Sears, and personal questions relative to family members that I never gave them info on.
As an added value, because Sears IS all about value: When you find this out and have to go back to the page to fill in a *proper* number? It had wiped out everything I typed in—all five times that I had to repeat the process. (
Holy chimps with lasers handling their IA, Batman!
It should be simply: Print out the receipt in an email, bring it to the store. Or, show a cell pic of the email. Or, present the store with the order number on paper. Or on my hand with a Sharpie™ then. Done. If I’ve already paid for it, and the person picking it up gives them one of the above, what more do they need?
It’s not like the person picking it up got verification from anyone but me. They weren’t picking up a prisoner for transfer or nuclear launch codes—it was one, lousy car battery.
(That, by the way, was the non-linear set-up to explain what happened prior to any of this however.)
So on that credit card page, they asked for a phone number. No problem because I always give the Connecticut time and temperature number, no matter where I am. (No, for real, try it now: (203) 366-4242.) The problem is they had all this *other* personal info on me that I didn’t give them permission to have. They also asked questions that required verification of an accurate home number we use for other things.
The hell they’re getting THAT.
Forget Big Brother creepy, giving them the weather disrupted the Borg, because the store now couldn’t confirm the I.D. of the family member picking it up. Yes, I realize, this is where you tell me not to be an asshole in the first place. Shoosh. It’s more me protecting what’s left of the illusion of privacy though.
Furthermore, they can’t confirm now that I will have a valid warranty in the future for this battery because the info in their system is now wrong. (No lie, that’s what they said in the store.)
Again, purchased a ton of stuff online. Amazon? 1–2–3. Done. GoDaddy? Same thing. No verification needed, and no proof required beyond what they have on file—even after several years. Pick a brand, and I have not had these hurdles.
Moral of the story? Pay Meineke the $124 next time.