in which i give the f word a workout

And so anyway, Target.com is the Evil Dead and I hate them.

I'm actually still pretty fucking livid, but I've calmed down enough to at least tell all you kind and lovely people why exactly I was all **FLAIL** last night and came close to CAPS LOCKing myself into an anneurism.

Okay, so we busted our asses for the better part of the spring and well into June working on our yard, trying to get it to a point that we could enjoy it this summer for the first time since we moved in. I don't have the pictures up on the website yet (surprise), but the house looks like a million bucks and the yard has been entiredly redone. No plantings -- that'll have to wait until next year -- but everything's been shaped, cleaned out, and barkdusted within an inch of its life.

During all of this, we were on a quest for a patio table and four chairs that A) we liked, B) could afford, and C) were comfortable.  We trekked all over Portland, to Target, Lowe's, Home Depot, and various indoor/outdoor furniture stores (even though those were all out of our price range).  When we couldn't find anything that met all three criteria, I started looking online, even though I don't usually buy anything big like that on the internet, especially when we need to be able to sit in it.  But Target.com, as it turned out, had a million more sets online than on the floors of their stores, and we ended up finding a great set. So we ordered it.  On June 26th.  That's going to be important later.

I get an email a couple of days later that both shipments will be delayed -- the table until July 10th, the chairs until July 17th.  So much for our two dinner parties over the 4th, but eh, whaddya gonna do? On the 14th, the freight company calls to say they have our table, can they deliver it on Monday? And I'm all, um, can't you just deliver it today? Apparently, no, because that would require efficiency and competence. Fine. I say yeah, Monday's fine. She tells me we have to be here, which means we have to take a day off work, until the lady finally says we can leave a note saying that it's okay to just leave this TWO HUNDRED POUND PACKAGE on our front step to absolve them of any liability in case someone just randomly, you know, decides to give themselves a hernia hauling the damn box down our front steps.  Again, whatever, liability, I get it. As soon as I get off the phone, I walk over to the door and tape a big note in black sharpie on our front door. Because it was windy, I taped it on the inside of the door, where it was plainly visible through the glass. Okay, so blonde moment, I should've figured out on my own they would need to take it with them. Mea culpa.  Monday (the 17th), we get home, no table. Another voicemail that we get when it's too late to call them, which means I have to call them the next day for delivery the day after that. Fuckity fuck fuck. Finally, finally, the goddamn thing arrives, we unpack it, put it together.

To save ourselves all this misery for the chair delivery, we put the note out pre-emptively and call the freight company to tell them to skip calling to make the appointment, we've left a note so just bring the chairs when they get here so we can shave a couple of MONTHS off their little delivery process. They say they can't do that, they'll still need to call when it arrives, yada yada. Of course they do.

So finally, on the 20th, the chairs arrive. Two of them are broken. BROKEN, people! THE GODDAMN CHAIRS WE'VE BEEN WAITING ON FOR ALMOST A MONTH ARE BROKEN NECESSITATING YET ANOTHER DELAY AND A  CALL TO SOME CALL CENTER WHERE I GET TO BE ON HOLD FOR THIRTY SIX CONSECUTIVE HOURS JUST SO I CAN TELL THEM THEY SUCK AND I HOPE THEY DIE THE END.

Well, I didn't tell them that, I was very polite, if irate, and the young man who helped me was actually quite helpful. And I didn't even have to sit on hold that long, either. Whoop-de-freakin-do. Anyway, he orders another set of chairs to be delivered, tells me to hang on to the broken ones in case the next shipment has any damage so we can cull out four intact chairs, if need be. Sal had already repacked them by this point so we decided to just leave them all packed up instead of getting out the two useable ones. So we now have this big hulking box taking up space in our living room, no chairs on our back patio area, and two more dinner parties. Good times.

They send an email on the 24th that the chairs have shipped and will arrive, and I quote, "within 3 to 5 business days". Now, being generous and giving them five days, and not counting the 24th, that means we should get a call from the shipping company no later than the 31st, right? Of course not. Sal calls them on the 1st, they say hmm, sorry, the chairs are in Ft. Worth, should be here by Thursday (the 3rd). Thursday arrives, no fucking chairs, no fucking voicemail. He calls them again, they say, hmm, still sitting in FUCKING FORT WORTH FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.

I call Target AGAIN. Still polite, somewhat more irate, I tell them to figure out what the hell the problem is, straighten it out, and get them on the next slow moving oxcart to Portland and that they're going to credit me the shipping charges because I could've DRIVEN there and back for the money they're charging me and had my chairs before I was fifty. They agree to credit the shipping, follow up on the problem, and expedite the shipping so the chairs will arrive in Portland on Monday (the 7th). Which they do. And Sal, calling to verify that they've arrived, learns that they won't actually deliver them to us until Wednesday (yesterday) because they're not going to have a truck in our area until then. DEAR FREIGHT COMPANY I HATE YOU KTHXBYE.

By this point, I'll believe that the chairs are actually going to be here when they say they will.  But yesterday, we get home, the big hulking box is waiting for us. We start unpacking the box and get the chairs in place so we can maybe have dinner on our back patio FOR THE FIRST TIME ALL GODDAMN SUMMER NOW THAT IT'S AUGUST THANK YOU NOT AT ALL. At least we'll get to use them a little bit.

Out of the two boxes of eight total chairs? FIVE of them were broken.

Yeah, I'll let that sink in for a moment.

I call Target. I'm now livid. Still polite, though. The girl tells me that they're not supposed to do second replacements, but she can see if her supervisor will let her make an exception if we want. You better hope so, kid, because I am this close to crawling through the receiver and beating you senseless with it. The supervisor grants the exception, but the girl tells me it's going to take three to four WEEKS to ship, which means we'll get them sometime around Thanksgiving based on their previous history, and I'm just going to go ahead and say what the fuck ever to that.

By that point, I was all, YOU KNOW WHAT I DON'T WANT ANY REMINDERS OF THIS ENTIRE CLUSTERFUCK SO TAKE YOUR BLOODY CHAIRS BACK YOU SADISTIC BASTARDS AND IF I COULD I'D MAKE YOU TAKE THE TABLE BACK TOO BECAUSE IT'S ONLY GOING TO REMIND ME OF THE SUMMER I WASTED WAITING FOR YOU CAVALCADE OF IDIOTS TO SCRATCH YOUR WATCHES AND WIND YOUR BUTTS.

She said she'd credit our account (oh how to thank them for their kindness)  and make arrangements for the BOXES OF BROKEN CHAIRS to be picked up.  In the meantime, we now have two boxes the size of a small country taking up space in our house, which we have no room for, no chairs, and another dinner party next weekend in which we'll have to come up with some creative seating solutions. We're going to take another stab at trying to buy some chairs locally, but most everyone's already packed up their summer inventory and I'm not very hopeful at this point. Oh, and those two boxes full of BROKEN CHAIRS? Yeah, they'll pick them up in one to two weeks.

Clearly, we're being punished by karma for continuing to shop at Target after they announced their crazy wingnuttery policy of allowing pharmacists to refuse to fill prescriptions because perfectly legal medications that let a woman control her own body make the baby Jesus cry. If we'd done as we should've then, this whole stroke-inducing nightmare could've been avoided.