At the home show a couple of weeks ago, I scheduled a one-hour visit from Renewal by Andersen, a national window-replacement company. Two of our bedroom windows are original to the house (built in 1894) and very rattly and drafty. Others are newer but inefficient and hard to clean. I wanted to get an estimate on replacing them.
The sales rep showed up, looked at the windows and ran through his spiel, then wanted work up his estimate right there.
"Your hour's up and we've got somewhere to be, so just email them, OK?" we said.
Nope, can't do that, he said, sales office rules. Have to schedule another visit. But he might be able to get us the numbers in the meantime, and then we can cancel the second visit. Well, OK then.
Not only do numbers not arrive, I get a concerned call from the sales office because they've checked the property records and discovered my husband's name on the title too, when they thought it was just me. WTF?
The more I thought about this, the madder I got. So this morning I called to cancel the follow-up appointment. "Something came up and I can't be here. Can you email me the estimate?" I said.
"No, we don't work that way," said the fellow on the phone, who also made an aggrieved comment about my canceling on short notice.
Well, guess what? If you don't work that way, you don't work for me.
And now I have to start all over again.