Today's case in point: A whiny Sears customer whines to Consumerist:
I called to have the refrigerator repaired and on August 28th a repairman came to my apartment. After examining the refrigerator he determined the part that was needed had to be ordered. He said that it was Sears's policy for the delivery of the part to take ten business days.Sounds fair to me ... what's the rub?
At that point I informed the repairman that my wife and daughter are insulin dependent and their insulin requires refrigeration.Ahh ... now I see. You're wife and child are insulin dependent diabetics, which makes this guy an asshole now ... I get it ... No ... I don't get it. I am an insulin dependent diabetic, and if I was told my refrigerator needed parts for repair that were guaranteed in 10 days, I would be glad. I would be glad that I had a guarantee that it would -*only*- be ten days, and I would sort out my meds myself. In fact, at the point that my refrigerator is broken to the point of calling for repair, I would have already sorted out my insulin, and it would be a moot point. Not for this asshole:
I asked the repairman to use my phone to call his office to inform his superiors that my wife and daughter are diabetic and their medicine requires refrigeration at all times. The repairman refused to call his office on my phone. He repeated that it was Sears' policy that it would take ten days and picked up his bag and left my apartment.Why is it the repairman's responsibility to sort out their medication? Where in the contract does is say that Sears guarantee's 24/7/365 access to refrigeration? Basically what the repairman is trying to politely tell this guy is that his piece is done ... you want to sort out something else with Sears, leave me out of it. I'm done. That's not good enough for this ignoramus, so he persists:
I followed the repairman to the elevator and asked him to give me his name. He refused. The repairman said I should call the office and state that a repairman had been to my apartment. While demanding that he at least tell me his name I held the elevator door open to prevent the repairman from leaving. The repairman exited the elevator and walked towards our staircase. I asked him again in the hallway what is your name. He finally muttered Brian. I said what is your full name and he replied "JESUS CHRIST!"At what point is the repairman allowed to start using force to get away from this psycho? Look dumbass, it's not the repairman's fault your wife and daughter are diabetic, and it's not Sears' responsibility to sort out their meds. That is -*you're*- job as a father, and you should see to it. Leave the repairman the f@#$k alone, and take care of your family.
You would think that at some point self-preservation of one's self and family would kick in, but these types of people think that everything should be handed to them on a silver platter. It's like Denis Leary said ... "Life's tough ... get a f@#$ing helmet."