Absolutely terrible customer service. I'm going to go full Karen here so buckle up…read more
Now, from Canadian 2 for 1 Agassiz, in the past three months, I had burnt pizza. Okay, no problem, they'll replace it... But when I called, they requested the burnt pizza back. Okay... weird. I've already opened and touched it, but sure. A couple solid orders go by and we get raw dough. Now, I straight up mean stretchy, pale, warm dough that looked exactly like my right thigh before summer. I call again and they'll replace it... on the condition I RETURN the pizza. Okay - again, I've touched it, my poor, unsuspecting partner took a bite of that raw, mushy disgrace of a pizza AnD tHeY wAnTeD iT bAcK. What? To recook it? To sacrifice their own personal tastebuds for validation? (The haunting mystery on this continues.)
That, my friends, brings us to tonight when I ordered 3 large pizzas for a family gathering. All is going well, my beer is cracked, the blazing heat is cooling off - it's time for some greasy, cheesy, gooey pizza. All is wonderful until 2 larges and a medium show up. "Okay," I tell myself, "just call them and everything will be made right." and everything was alright... They offered a large to replace the one we didn't get. Awesome! 5/5 customer service (and they didn't even ask for this one back - the mystery on the other 2 continues). The phone rings. Unsuspecting, I answer. They've changed their mind. They will "offer a small because a small and a medium make a large". I swear to the Food Service Gods that I sacrificed my past 14 years of work to that I never thought I'd have to Karen - but here we are. I told them I was promised a large because that's what I ordered and paid for. WELL, apparently now we were negotiating but, damn, I had a large on the table and now it wasn't and I wasn't going to let that go. "A medium, but that's all we can do", the woman daringly countered over the connection. I could taste that large - the large pizza I had been promised, no, destined to have - the large they had initially offered.
Now, the poor employee probably recognized the "full blown Karen" mode I was in and fatefully uttered the words, "I'll talk to the manager." And she ended the call.
Now, I imagine the back of house hushed whispers of "The Karen and her Large Pizza". I'm honestly okay with that because as the Food Service Gods know, I've done my time, I've played this game, I've sold my soul to this industry.
The minutes feel like hours before the phone rings. The Manager expresses his regret but feels like a "medium is more than fair". I dramatically rip my hair out in frustration like a paid mourner keening in ancient Greek times. I know the food is a write off. I was promised a Large. But The Manager uses his Manager voice and states that a "medium is all [I'll] be getting". Now, here we are. It's been 40 minutes. I'm full Karen. My fury grows brighter with every moment that passes. I wait.
UPDATE: Now, I want to state that they have balls of steel here because not only did they send a medium - they sent a medium of the . wrong . fucking . pizza. The Karen in me rages on and the night continues.