A couple of Sundays ago, I saw an email from UPS saying that I had a shipment being delivered on Monday. I clicked on the tracking number and saw that a 97-lb box was on its way to me, in Ohio, from Mills Fleet Farm in Iowa.
Now, don't get me wrong, I love farm supply stores and can spend hours in Tractor Supply or Rural King even when they don't have baby chicks and bunnies, but I've never even heard of Mills Fleet, not to mention the weight of this box. What in the world is going on?
If this had happened 16 months ago, I would never have given it a second thought, as Mom was always sending someone little (and sometimes big) gifts that would arrive via the brown trucks from QVC. However, with her passing in July, 2014, the mystery surprises had long since ceased.
The Monday prior to this, I arrived home from work to a voice mail message from Commerce Bank's Fraud Department asking me to give them a call about my card number ending in XXXX. Someone had stolen my rarely-used credit card numbers, produced a real card with my numbers and had used it at least three times in Michigan before it was blocked.
So, with identity theft still fresh in my mind, I read the email about a 97-lb box that was on its way to me.
Monday evening, after work, the big brown UPS truck backs into our driveway and, sure enough, there is the box weighing in at 97 lbs. The driver struggled to move it to the open garage for us and we see this picture:
So, I call the customer service number on the packing list and the nicest young man in Customer Service at Mills Fleet Farm answers. I explain my dilemma, including the fact that I'd been a victim of identity theft, with a stolen credit card number, and did not know the sold-to person from Adam and did not want her to also be a victim of identity theft. He looks everything over on this order number from his end and we can't see any other information to figure out who this stranger was that was sending me a chair. So he told me he would issue a call ticket and have the chair picked up the next day.
Then I look up the sold-to lady on line and find a phone number, call and explain in a voice mail that I never bought this chair and was sending it back so if she saw a bad charge on her card they would be crediting it back to her. Really trying to cover all the bases as I waited for my own identity-theft mess to be straightened out.
A different driver, but one I knew from deliveries at the office, came on Tuesday to pick it up and we puzzled for a few minutes over what was going on with the chair and lamented about identity theft and the general dishonesty that seemed to be permeating the country these days. He wrestled it onto his truck and taped on the label I had printed issued by the nice man at Mills Fleet and headed for his next stop.
Phew! I had done my part in trying to rid the world of cyber-crime and identity theft. Jim and I laughed about it and that was that.
Wednesday morning, the very next morning, finds me at work at 9:00 a.m., getting the office ready for business and my boss, Steve, comes in and is looking at the farm market reports on his computer and we're chatting about this and that. Then, sort of out of the blue, he says to me, "so, did you get anything delivered by UPS?"
Uh oh.
"Um, yes, I did and I had no idea where it came from and I.sent.it.back." He laughs, but gets this confused look on his face and says, "no, you shouldn't send stuff back." Me, laughing sheepishly, "well, I see that now, but I did."
So I tell him what all had transpired and how there was nothing to indicate who it actually came from. He's dying laughing by now and goes to call, his wife, Helen (boss lady), and tells her what I did with their lovely gift. He talks with her a while and they're laughing, then sends the calls to me and she's laughing, too, "saying you've got to call UPS and see if they can bring it back!"
Then Steve comes back down the hall from his office now really laughing out loud, saying: "did you think someone stole your credit card and was sending you stuff with it?!?"
Okay, so I'm not the brightest bulb in the chandelier.
So, I call the local UPS branch in Chillicothe and she said it's already long gone on its way back, but call the 800 number and they might be able to intercept it. They couldn't.
I told Helen that I'd contact the nice people at Mills Fleet after work as I didn't have a copy of the packing slip with me.
This time around, a very nice young woman named Wendy took my call in Mills Fleet customer service department. I said, "I have a very odd tale to tell you and not sure if or how you can help me." As briefly as I can, I relate what happened, saying I was concerned that someone was going to be charged a fortune to re-ship the chair once it arrived back and that I felt pretty stupid but really was only trying to be honest (heh, no good deed goes unpunished, right?). She was very sweet and said she'd call me back after explain it to her supervisor.
You know, most companies probably would have transferred me to 15 people and I would have had to tell my truth-IS-stranger-than-fiction tale over and over, but this very nice gal was really trying to provide true customer service--it was so refreshing.
Wendy calls me back in about 20 minutes to get a little more information but mainly to tell me that her supervisor has discussed it with their receiving department and it will be sent back to me as soon as arrives--no additional shipping charges. Just amazing how nice these folks are; I really need to get to Iowa one of these days. I mean, generally speaking, people in the Midwest are more friendly but I am still amazed at this turned out.
Anyway, in hopes of lightheartedly keeping my employers abreast of the developments in getting their lovely gift back, the following emails to Helen sum up the rest of the story:
The Tale of the Traveling Cloud Chair
Mills Fleet Farm has some of the nicest customer service people I've ever dealt with in my life. I spoke with Wendy and she called me back after re-telling the odd tale to her manager. The manager spoke with Receiving and they will ship it back to me when it arrives (supposed to be tomorrow, according to UPS).
She said the reason for that name must have been that it was ordered through Amazon.com and that seller purchased the chairs from Mills Fleet, so that's why her name showed up as Sold-to instead of yours.
They were so sweet about it, I just couldn't believe it.
The poor lounge chair is probably going to need a martini by the time it gets back here again
The Tale of the Traveling Cloud Chair--Part Deux
In our last episode, we found the chair again on a UPS truck heading in the direction where its journey began…
In this installment of The Tale of the Traveling Cloud Chair: As the weary Cloud Chair awakens to find itself back at Mills Fleet, it wonders if it will ever have a porch to call its own or if it will be forced to endlessly travel in brown trucks between Iowa and Ohio until its box disintegrates and its beautiful cushion and awning hang in tatters.
[sad organ music plays]
Stay tuned for these questions and more to be answered in the next installment of, The Tale of the Traveling Cloud Chair.
The Tale of the Traveling Cloud Chair--Part Trois
The poor chair could not believe it was taken from one brown truck, unceremoniously shoved on to another and seemingly heading right back toward Ohio. Would its days as a vagabond never end?
It endured the trip in stoic silence. What else could it do?
Hour after hour, mile upon mile, the Cloud Chair was lulled to a stupor by the seemingly endless sound of rolling down the highway. Suddenly, there was the sound of tires on gravel...
As the brown truck backed up to the garage door, the weary chair was overcome by a feeling of déjà vu. The back doors opened and even the man in brown could not believe the tattered condition of the box with parts of the chair protruding in several places. He kindly told the lady (who seemed familiar to the Cloud Chair) that he would put a special note about the box in case something was missing or broken.
As she opened what was left of the box, it was immediately apparent that the chair’s parts were intact and undamaged. Everything was carried gently and lovingly to a screened porch and the chair, delighted at being freed from the confines of what was left of the cardboard and Styrofoam, was assembled beneath a ceiling fan as animals and other people looked on. When the final knots were tied on the bright cushion, the Cloud Chair lost its feeling of weariness…it was replaced with the knowledge that it was now home and it was re-energized by the security of knowing it would never again traverse the Midwest in a truck of any color.
The people emitted sounds of contentment as they each partook of the delights and comfort the chair gave forth. It was, indeed, the beginning of happily ever after.
The End.
