Probably shouldn't be a bitch to a bride a week before her wedding...

General customer treatment 101: You probably shouldn't be a bitch to a bride a week before her wedding.

Last week, Robert and I dropped off our wedding bands to a local jeweler (family owned and operated for several decades) to be engraved. The man told us that the rings would probably be ready on Monday or Tuesday of this week. It's Thursday, but that's not such a big deal because the wedding isn't for nine more days. We just needed to have them in hand by next Friday. Robert received a phone call yesterday that the rings were ready, but we couldn't both make it over there until this morning. I got there a little later than we were originally hoping, and Robert had to dash because he had to get back to the duplex to let the carpet people in. So, while he was waiting for me to arrive, he went ahead and picked up my wedding band. He had some issues with one of the women in the store because, apparently, our rings were filed incorrectly. I think what had happened was that the rings were placed in the wrong bags. The woman kept telling Robert that she couldn't find his order, but when she finally did find it she acted as though it weren't a big deal. Wise up, lady: it's kind of the biggest deal. These are wedding bands. Not some company fountain pen.

When I arrived, Robert had to leave, so I went to the jeweler by myself, but I figured it'd be okay considering he had just been in there five seconds ago. I walk in, tell them the name on the order, and sure enough: they can't find it.

Let's pause.

My wedding band is a five-diamond band. It can be replaced because we have insurance on it.
Robert's wedding band is a family heirloom. It was first worn by his great-grandfather (Don) and then passed on to his grandfather (the first Robert in the family--my fiance is the third). His great-grandfather's initials were engraved on the ring, but his grandfather's (whose initials Robert shares) weren't. So, we decided to add his grandfather's initials as well as Robert's, just adding a III after the second set of initials. This is an important, invaluable, irreplaceable ring.

So the girl can't find my order. Immediately, I start to shake. She seems unapologetic and unconcerned...as though she doesn't believe me that I've even placed an order here at all. I told her it could be under Robert's name. She still can't find it. I told her that he was just in here--maybe his ring is somewhere on the counter. She ignores me and goes to consult the woman who does the engraving. At this point Robert calls me, and I can't stop shaking. That woman comes out, but she's no help because all she does is stare at the screen that apparently shows that I have no order in the system. Finally, some manager comes over, picks up a bag off the counter, and says, "Is this it?" Yup. And it was in the wrong bag--filed under Robert's name, apparently.

Even after it was all sorted out and I had Robert's ring in hand, the woman who had originally started working with me did not apologize for her error. Instead, she started to blame me because I had written his name on the card. But I had also written my name on the card. I wasn't listening to her because I was still on the phone with Robert--rude? Maybe. I didn't care. She was being a bitch. She practically threw the bag at me, gave me a tight (bitchy) smile, and said, "Well, you have a wonderful afternoon." I glared at her and said, "Oh yeah, you too."

The second I got out of that store, I started ranting into Robert's ear. I was still shaking from all the anxiety at the prospect of having lost his great-grandfather's wedding ring. We have both decided that the work this company does is not worth all of the bitchiness they continually treat us with--the first bad experience we had was when they kept Robert's grandfather's watch for over a year (they were trying to repair an antique watch but didn't have the parts).

It's a shame because this particular store is personal to my family in a way. When my dad was a young college guy, he spoke to the owner of the store who taught him about diamonds. My dad bought my mom's engagement ring from this store, as well as her wedding band (and probably his--I think they're a set). He's bought her several other pieces of jewelry from this place. But, unfortunately, in the last few years the family portion of the store's ownership has shifted so that the new owner (still a family member with the same last name) has a very different attitude toward customers and apparently educates her employees in this manner.

Excuse me, but if I'm a bride and I'm giving you business a week before my wedding, don't you think you would treat me like a bride who's giving you business a week before her wedding?

I mean, hell, I'm about to be surrounded by 153 of my closest friends and family--half of whom live here. Maybe I'll just spread this little story around.