We're having our fitted wardrobes replaced. We bought them from Ikea, 9 years ago. Dave Hoser and I put them up in the back bedroom - which is now Sara's office - and very nice they looked,too.
But, gradually, the doors (opening, not sliding ones. These things are important.) started to sag and then give way. I know the feeling...
Then Sara remembered that Ikea do a guarantee on their products that last 10 years. So she phoned them up and they said that, yes, they were still under guarantee.
"Great," we said, "In that case can we have some new doors?"
"One problem," they replied, "We don't make that style any more."
"Ah."
"But," they continued, "Would you like new wardrobes instead? We'll deliver and fit them for you. Then we'll take the old ones away."
Good old Ikea. Now that is customer service like it used to be. We were delighted.
Ikea sent a chap round to inspect the wardrobes and he confirmed that the glue on 4 of the 6 doors had failed and so the whole lot could be replaced.
But, of course, nothing's perfect and we discovered that they don't make anything like the big, deep, corner unit anymore.
Never mind, though, we'll keep the corner unit and just replace the other two. They won't quite match but what can you do? Especially as Ikea were offering sliding doors on the new units. Very useful in Sara's, rather crowded, new office. Ikea suggested one 100cm unit and one 50cm unit. That would fill the space nicely.
This, rather impressively, was going to take place over the Easter Bank Holiday. They'd deliver the new stuff on the Thursday and the chaps from Assembly Angels (No, really, that's their name.) would come on Bank Holiday Monday to take down the old ones & assemble the new ones. Then Ikea would come on the Tuesday and take away the old stuff.
People working on Bank Holidays. We were even more impressed.
On Thursday, the van arrived with the new wardrobes. The Ikea men carried it all in and left it in the hallway downstairs. We counted the boxes. 14. There were supposed to be 15. Apparently, a shelf was missing.
Never mind. If that's as bad as it gets, well, who's complaining?
Over the Saturday and Sunday, Sara moved all her stuff out of the old units into the middle bedroom. We'd need that room on Monday evening because our friend Oriana was coming to stay. But by the time she arrived, we'd have the new wardrobes and all the stuff could go back in them. Perfect.
We got a phone call on Monday morning. The chap from Assembly Angels was running early. Early? Yes early. He'd be there in 30 minutes. Excellent. This was going really well.
And there he was. Ready to assemble for all he was worth. Except...
Now we all know that when someone who is doing work in your house says, "Er, can I just have a word?" then it's not going to be good news.
"Sliding doors."
"I'm sorry, what do you mean?"
"Sliding doors. That's a 2 man job."
Apparently, they have to be assembled flat on the floor and lifted into place. Hadn't the Angelic Assemblers been aware of this problem?
Apparently not.
"Could I help?"
"Health & Safety."
Apparently not.
He wasn't even very keen on dismantling the old stuff, until Sara shamed him into it by starting to do it herself. He promised 2 men would arrive tomorrow.
So, Monday lunchtime found us with Ikea boxes in the hallway, dismantled wardrobes scattered about upstairs, and Sara's clothes piled high in the spare bedroom.
A few hours later found us with dismantled wardrobes neatly stacked in the hallway, Ikea boxes neatly stacked in our bedroom, the spare room fit for our guest to sleep in and 2 rather weary people who weren't, in any way, owners of functioning wardrobes.
Never mind.
Today's Tuesday. The two guys from Assembly Angels arrived. A bit late, but they arrived.
Then...
"Er, can I just have a word?"
With implacable logic the man from AA explained to me that we had one 100cm unit and one 50cm unit. I knew that. That's what Ikea said we should have. With lovely sliding doors.
He then explained that with those dimensions and with two 75cm sliding doors, there would always be a bit of the wider unit we couldn't get into. What we needed, he said, was two 75cm units.
He then proposed that I pay him £75 for yesterday's not-putting-up-of-wardrobe. And £25 for the same lack today.
He suggested we contact Ikea and re-order.
I suggested something else altogether.
Never mind. At least Ikea were coming to remove the old units from the hall.
And come they did.
"Er, can I just have a word?"
Apparently, the old units that Sara and I had carefully carried downstairs, had protruding nails and, even worse, glass in the doors.
"That's not glass," I said, bending one sheet into a parabola, "You can't do that with glass."
"Yes it is," he insisted, "And anyway, we've 18 deliveries to do and couldn't fit it all in the van."
He then took some photos to show his boss what idiots those AA guys were...
Never mind.
I went to buy some beer and now have a sore head.
Not from the beer.
On the way back into the house, I cracked my head on the old units that are still in the hallway.
