Evidently I wasn't meant to have new couches

 Image courtesy magazineart.org

September: Pick out couches I like from a reputable company online. Think about it. A lot.

November: Look at coordinating fabric for curtains.

After Christmas: Order said couches. Should be here in 4–6 weeks.

6 weeks later: Call company. Where are my couches? Oh, they're still being made. Well, I hope they come soon.

2 weeks later: Couches in, hooray! Happy March.

2 days later: Couches delivered. So-called "white glove delivery," which theoretically includes delivery to the room of my choice, unpacking, and assembly ends up being a dump in the garage.

That night: Mr. Mordecai unpacks the couches for me. One of them has been crushed in shipping. He and a neighbor bring them inside to get them out of the garage.

The next morning: I notice that there's a hole in the other one, a manufacturing defect.

Later that day: I call the company. Oh, that's too bad, they say. They can refund me $150 (less than the cost of shipping) or I can return them. Come pick them up, I say, but we're going out of town in two days. I give them our return date. Do you want to reorder? they ask. No.

Over a week after we get back: I call again. Hello, are you going to pick up those broken couches? Oh, hmm, I wonder why no one has called you for a pickup. We'll try again.

The next week: Sure, they'll come. Tomorrow.

The next day: One guy shows up. He decides he can't get them out alone.

The next day: Two guys show up. They get the couches out, but gouge a hole in our living room door. Oh, call our boss, they say. He'll take care of it.

The next day: Mr. Mordecai calls their boss. We need to pick up the door we want, and they'll have it . . . wait for it . . . yes, delivered.

The next week: Mr. Mordecai manages to get hold of the boss after a few tries and tells them the door we want.

The same day: I call the nameless company to ask when my money will be refunded. I get a pretty vague answer, which I eventually construe to mean: however long the couches take to get there, plus one week. The couches took two months to get here. Not really thrilling, but what can I do?

The next day: The door is promptly delivered.

That weekend: Mr. Mordecai spends all day fixing the door (unfortunately it wasn't just a simple matter of hanging a new door: it involved much hammering, chiseling, drilling, sawing, and I don't know what all.

About two weeks later:  Our refund arrives, half one day and half a few days later.

Now we're back where we started. Except we still need to paint that door.


  1. I'm so sorry it didn't work out as planned, and that now you have even more work to complete! How about some new slipcovers for the old couch? Might be faster and less worry.

  2. Ohhhh goodness! What a nightmare:-{

    Almost makes me glad I can't afford new furniture;-)

  3. You must be very disappointed. I'm sorry about your couches. Or lack of couches, I should say.

    Hope you're getting to the point of the frustration where you can at least laugh about it a bit.

  4. Wow, that's awful. I'm very leery about ordering things online. Stories like yours make me glad I am! We generally order things in town and have them delivered if necessary, but so far it's just been a stove and soon-to-be a refrigerator. Both of our couches were (lightly) used from friends.

  5. You just made me very wary of the hutch that I am getting ready to order!!!

    PS-- love the new look of your blog (I think it is new...??) ;-)

  6. Did you ever watch Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House with Cary Grant? Very funny. Every time something like that happens I think of that movie. Like the time our stove broke and two and a half months and three repairmen later it was finally fixed. And then the wiring in the back started a fire! (Good thing my Fireman husband was home and not much damage was done).
    Perhaps fabulous new couches are finding their way to your home as we speak!

  7. Wow! What a nightmare. You seem to be handling this with much more grace than I would be. I'd probably be blabbing the name of this company all around and telling people NOT to shop there!

  8. I tried slipcovers, but our couch is so long that none would fit. :(

    Mikki, I was ready to tell everyone their name if I didn't get a full refund . . . but I did—they tried to make everything right—so I decided not to be too mean.

  9. Oh I would be furious. I guess that there is something to be said for buying local. That way you could go to the store and make them fix it right away. I'm always looking online for this stuff, but I'll definitely take your experience into consideration.

  10. I have a funner idea for you-
    Buy just any old couch, and them hit up the fabric store for a nice slipcover pattern and enough fabric of all your favorite fabrics. Make all the slipcovers, then change the couch according to your mood. That's what I want to do in my eventual new place.