Order fake Areca Palm tree for living room since I keep killing real ones. Find one for $163 on Walmart.com. Website says can return to local store if needed. Sweet. It comes, and Scott and Mom and Andrew all make fun of it. I try to give it a chance but know deep in my heart that it’s ridic. So I box up, get receipt from my email and head off to Walmart with 2YO Macie.
Find stray cart. Put huge/awkward tree in cart and hold Macie on hip and walk from back of parking lot pushing cart/holding her and get out of breath. By time I get into store I’m huffing and puffing. Walmart greeter thinks he’s funny and actually imitates my panting. WTF. When I acknowledge him by giving him ice queen psycho pregnant lady death stare, he says “My DEAR, why didn’t you call?!” But still doesn’t come up to help us or assist in any way.
I make it to Customer Service desk. No line. Whaaat? Awesome! Hoist tree over counter, give him receipt, etc. He enters order number in computer and the dreaded “ohhhhhh….” comes out.
“Ohhh what?!” I say.
“Welllllll, this was actually purchased through a third party called ‘Christmas Central’ so we can’t take it back here at the store.”, he explains.
“Um…what is Christmas Central?”
(Macie is currently lifting up her shirt showing strangers her belly button)
“It’s a third party”, he says.
“I didn’t order from Christmas Central. I ordered from Walmart.com. There was zero anything about Christmas Central or not being able to return it” (Voice elevating, getting sweaty, shed jacket)
“Well, would you like to call Walmart.com or Christmas Central? We’re not really affiliated with them.”
“You’re not really affiliated with them?”
The rest is a huge blur. Managers came over, Walmart.com was called, flagrant arm movements, I continued elevating my voice: “What is Christmas Central? You call Christmas Central!”, the line for customer service was wrapping outside of the room. Macie was now laying on the dirty floor and rolling around like Madonna.
I was late for being surprise reader for Kenna’s preschool and still had to pick up cookies. So I said
“I’m leaving this dumb 163 dollar tree here that looks NOTHING LIKE THE WEBSITE PICTURE BY THE WAY because I don’t have time to carry it back out to my car right now. Mister, I know this is not your fault, and I am sorry for this spectacle, but whose fault is it? Mine, I suppose for ordering from Walmart.com and actually thinking it was Walmart!?! I will be back to pick up this dumb tree later.”
“We cannot guarantee it will still be here.”