Tag Archives: Rants

Smart Carpet on Notice. . .

Smart Carpet on Notice. . .

Not quite 10 months ago, I was so excited to have new floors. It was about January I started to notice the dark lines between the flooring panels. I went to a local floor place to see whether there was a product that would safely fill the gaps in my laminate floor, and was given more of an education in flooring than Smart Carpet had offered. Apparently, those gaps shouldn’t exist at all. Nor should I hear cracking noises as I walked across it. Plus, I should have been given a whole lot more paperwork with warranties and instructions, like at least more than the absolutely none at all that were provided by Smart Carpet.

The store owner suggested that I should contact Smart Carpet directly, since this was clearly not the way the floor was supposed to look or act, in his experience. So I did, and this has led to several months of appointments and visits and reports. We went from being told that this was normal when a floor was installed on concrete, that it would be fine again when the weather warmed up (Somehow warmth expels dirt from cracks?) to Smart Carpet saying it was a manufacturing defect, to the manufacturer saying it was an installation defect, and finally to Smart Carpet saying that they would come in, pull up the floor, clean up the edges, and reinstall the floor – correcting the gaps as they went.

I kind of knew something bad was coming when the replacement flooring was dropped off on Monday (to acclimate it to the environment in the house) and there were only 6 boxes and one small roll of underlayment. I knew for darn sure that there was too much wrong with the floor for this to be the solution, and sure enough, when the installers started working, I could see that I was supposed to be placated by a token gesture.

There was quite a bit of animated conversation going on in Portuguese. Nice way to make sure you can talk freely in front of the customer. They showed me how much tighter the joints were on the new planks, which was certainly not helpful because there weren’t enough of them. I pointed out that the edges on the new planks were jagged and still had gaps that would undoubtedly widen from friction as the floor was walked on. One of them left the house, made a call (in Portuguese) and then told me his supervisor would be calling. We waited for a while. He called again, then spoke to his partner, and they began reinstalling the old planks. I asked him what was going on, and he said his supervisor would call me in an hour. Then they left.

I wasn’t keeping track of the time, but the man who called me was not the one I knew as their supervisor. He had it all figured out.

I had ruined the floor myself by exposing it to moisture.

What???

He cited the fact that a couple of spots were noted on one report as moisture damage. I told him that those were specific spots where I had told the various inspectors that I had spilled water, which was then immediately wiped up but still caused damage. He said that I had used a swiffer to clean the floor, so that must have done it. I asked him why, then, was the floor just as damaged in the areas that were covered with carpet and furniture? He just reiterated that I should have used an approved laminate cleaner, so I asked him how that would be applied? Well, a spray bottle, for spot cleaning only, with an approved solution, which I should then wipe up with a dry cloth. I asked him how this liquid would not get into the cracks, but wetjet laminate floor solution wouldn’t. I asked him why, if the salesman had told me this was an easy-care floor, I should be on my hands and knees with a spray bottle and a cloth to clean it. This went on – he continued to insist that I had damaged my entire floor, in two rooms, in a matter of months, by saturating it from above. Forget that the joints were gapped and uneven with no evidence of moisture damage, forget that the salesman said it would lock tight and could be washed with the swiffer, forget that the floor makes cracking noise when you walk on it, forget that you can see tiny chips on many of the edges of the laminate, forget that there’s glue gobs all over the transition pieces. Forget all that. The floor would have stayed pristine forever if only I’d never sprayed it down with the garden hose – I told him that in order for the floor to have the conditions he was describing, that’s what I would have had to do.

So now he has “tried” to get in contact with “someone” who can “address” this “problem”, but he’s “been in meetings all day.” That’s OK, I’m trying to get in contact with someone who can address the problem, too. Like, a lawyer. We’ll see who can address the problem faster.

Sometimes. . .

Sometimes. . .

it’s so hard to be nice. Yes, I’m a really nice person, sometimes disgustingly so, but I’m only human. I need to blow off steam just like anyone else, but that side usually comes out only in front of friends (who can forgive me) or on the internet (where it’s de rigeur and hardly noticed.) Bingo night usually gives all of us a chance to blow off a little snark, but last night I had to take a little retreat!

Let me give you a little exposition here first.

The end of the school year is always crazy, what with the concerts and kids’ parties and end-of-school things that I always have to do coinciding with the beginning of gardening season. There have been additional things this year, much of it relating to marching band in one way or another. I’ve been busy almost every waking moment. Ummmm. . .busy doesn’t necessarily mean productive. I have to be honest. I have done a lot of stuff, though.

Among the things I’ve been working on have been teaching myself a little more Excel, in the form of updating the band roster and getting it to have multiple tabs for different orders of the list. Hubby had to help, but I am definitely ascending the learning curve a lot on my own. The other thing I’ve been doing is honing some photoshop skills, assembling and editing images for band buttons. I thought it would be a cool thing for the kids to have buttons for orientation night that showed their section instrument. I was able to find some free clipart images of a number of instruments, but not all the ones I needed. So, it was off to Google image search, then a good amount of time trying to make photos look more like drawings, layer, resize, and skew multiple images (and then try to make them look the same so that I could then make them look more like drawings. . .) then play with the layer styles to make them look related without totally obscuring the background image. I think they turned out pretty neat.

So, I go to do the Bingo thing last night. I usually sell two different game sheets, and the money for these goes into separate boxes. However, people who are buying both usually give me a single bill to pay for them, so I need to make change and transfer money to the other box. It’s not such a big deal for me, but last night we had about 30 more people than we usually do, different jackpots, and a couple of new games. Even the cranky people still got smiles and thank-yous from me – and believe me, some of these people seem to be so stressed out by every little thing that you wonder why they even come.

Well, we get to one game, and a woman asks me how it’s played – it’s one where you have to get two bingos in two separate squares, but I don’t play this game, so we had some regulars yelling at me from the back that I was explaining it wrong. This table is our crankiest by far, but I figured I’d head over there and be all agreeable and let them explain it to me. I did this knowing it was probably a bad idea. There are certain sacrifices we disgustingly nice people have to make.

So this little group starts telling me that it’s two bingos in a column but they can be rows or columns or diagonal but it has to be two out of three and they can be in different columns but they all have to be in the same column and I’m saying wait, they don’t have to have two B columns or two N columns, so what columns are they talking about and they start screaming at me two out of the three, not the columns, it’s two bingos in the same column but they don’t have to be up and down!!! Holy crap, it could have been a comedy routine about people who don’t know how to explain things, but it wasn’t funny. I smiled and said that as long as they all knew how to play it, then we wouldn’t have to worry about anyone getting it wrong, and as I walked away they began talking about me to each other. “How can someone be that stupid?” “She’s so stupid she can’t even understand Bingo!” Mmm-hmmm. Smart enough to know the difference between stupid and deaf, which would put me a step ahead of them. . .

As it turns out, a rational person explained to me that the two bingos could go any way in two separate boxes, but that the boxes on the sheet were arranged in three rows and two columns – therefore, a bingo in row one, column one and another in row three, column two wouldn’t win, but any two rows in the same column of boxes would. Aha! Believe me, I’ve been spending enough time with Excel to know what rows and columns are, but when I see a grid, the rows and columns within that grid are the first thing I think of!

Oh, the things I would love to say and/or do to these people! The huge, steaming piles of snarkiness I could unload on them in one fell swoop! What a thrill to contemplate an act of revenge, delivered with the unbesmirchable sweetness I have perfected through years of practice! But no, what about an actual snub, a wise and witty retort guaranteed to cut them off at the knees? Why, they’d never see it coming! Perhaps I could be too stupid to be able to sell them eight of each game and give them correct change for a fifty? Maybe some choice phrases from several different languages uttered before them, followed by a sugary “Oh, you don’t know Latin? I’m so sorry. . .” The direct, in-your-face confrontation enumerating some concrete differences in our levels of intelligence and/or education just to see who exactly is stupid around here. The possibilities were swirling through my head, tempting and intoxicating.

Let’s get real, though. These people come every week, and spend an embarrassing amount of money that helps support the band. I have to deal with them only once every four weeks, and for such a short time in the grand scheme of things. On top of that, I am unaware of anyone who would find them a credible source of character judgement – I don’t have to worry about getting a reputation for stupidity on their say-so. Whatever I might fantasize about doing would never have any positive result in real life.

Still. . .I might just have trouble adding and subtracting money next month. Just a teensy little bit, and I’ll be really, really, really nice about it. . .

Looking in the Mirror

Looking in the Mirror

Hmmm. As a person who’s spent a good deal of time trying to get her head on straight, I’ve done plenty of introspection, spent way too much time self-flagellating, and come a long way in self-improvement (but still have a ways to go, no question!) What brought this into the forefront of my brain this morning was this post on Pharyngula about Bill Dembski asking his lawyer to make the mean people go away. Specifically, he’s been caught using a video about evolution that was produced by Harvard in his Intelligent Design presentations – by dubbing over the soundtrack with ID-friendly language and eliminating the credits so his fraudulent use would be harder to detect. Dembski has a history of doing things that turn out to be illegal, embarrassing, or both, then being surprised at the negative consequences. He is a public figure because he has made himself so, but he never seems to expect anyone to see through his pseudonyms and make it public that he was behind the fart video, or the public posting of peoples’ addresses for the purpose of harassment, or fan messages to himself on various review sites. He also hasn’t glommed onto the fact that anything that goes on the internet easily becomes public, and that goes for the letters he’s been ccing to other parties who are less than sympathetic towards him. So I said:

I’ve always lived with the attitude that you shouldn’t say anything you’d be embarrassed to say in public, or to the face of a person you say it about. That goes even more for anything written or sent over the internet. Never, ever assume that it won’t be passed along somehow, or that you’ll never be held accountable for it. (I also believe that there’s nothing wrong with apologizing, or admitting you were wrong, so that helps.)

Unfortunately for Dembski, he regularly says and does things without giving weight to the potential consequences, and never apologizes when he’s called on it. His lawyer, no matter how well-trained or well-connected, can’t protect him from himself. Better that he should be a little more contemplative than outspoken, but it’s hard to teach an old dog new tricks.

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