The Jessops Retail Fail Saga (part 2 of ?)
The rain dampened our Friday night hopes of catching a fireworks display before I travelled - I suddenly got a real jones for Bonfire night celebrations, knowing I was going to be in Chicago and miss the biggest and baddest displays on Saturday evening, and anyway, I’d come back late and spitting angry after the fiasco in Jessops, so I pretty much wrote the evening off and had a quiet one in with the missus.
Saturday morning. I’d been promised a 9am call from the manager. 9.30am, having heard nothing, I called the store. The manager apologised, saying that the member of staff that was supposed to pass on the details of what happened was stuck on a tube somewhere. The short of the conversation was that, if I wanted a swift resolution, I’d probably have to go into the store. They’d need to get on to their merchant services, who’d probably ask me all kinds of questions about my card/account. I was in two minds - I had access to other money, and I had no intention of buying the camera from Jessops, so it really was just a matter of reversing the two “failed” transactions (which Jessops had indicated would take up to 4 working days) and finding somewhere else to get the camera from. I’d lose a days worth of images, but hey - such is life.
In the end, once I’d finished packing and tidying up the flat, I decided take a detour on my way to Heathrow and stop at the store. I figured I could spare maybe half an hour, and surely it wouldn’t take more than that to resolve, right?
Just as I was arriving at the store, I was called (yep - on the mobile) by the member of staff that had told me he wasn’t able to help me on Friday. He was asking for the authorisation codes for the two “failed” transactions (which I’d managed to get from my bank while I was in the store, on Friday, and had told him that I had). I told him I was already at the store - an almost comical moment. We met face to face, he called HSBC merchant services, and spent a few minutes explaining the situation. During this conversation, it slowly dawned that they weren’t going to ask me any questions at all. I COULD HAVE HANDLED EVERYTHING OVER THE PHONE. Being there would have made no difference.
HSBC said that the money was in “holding” - a kind of limbo between my account and Jessops (my bank, Abbey, had explained as much on Friday, which is why they couldn’t do anything from their end). HSBC went on to say that there wasn’t much they could do. I don’t really need to detail what happened next - let’s just say that I became very persuasive - but I eventually managed to encourage the person on the other end of the line to expedite the situation. He spoke to my bank directly, and promised that he’d fax Abbey with instructions to cancel. Abbey would then take care of it from their end, and the whole thing should be resolved in four hours.
I could have cursed and blinded. I could have thrown a tantrum. I could have let the south-east Londoner (Lewisham, to be precise) loose. I could have channelled my mother (she’s an expert in these kinds of situations, all righteous fury and indignation), but I had a plane to catch, and however frustrating the situation was, I couldn’t really see much else that I could do. I left, once again, with no camera, and a promise to have all of the money back in my account in four hours.
Fast forward through a few hours of travel to the airport, meeting with the team and other travelling companions, a quick bite to eat. Pause for a moment to buy THE SAME CAMERA, WITH AN 18-55mm KIT LENS FOR ONLY £10 MORE AT CURRYS IN THE AIRPORT (someone told me that the lens is worth £100, and I really don’t use it in my practise, so I may well sell it on for further savings…) on card for a different account.
Resume playback. Just as I’m boarding the plane, I call my bank. I’m in a good mood. The team are already presenting themselves as some really nice kids, and I’ve got a good feeling about the trip. I’m just calling to put my mind at rest before I travel, to confirm that all of my money is where it should be. The person I speak to says that no money has been returned to my account. Odd. She checks card services, and 10 minutes later (these calls aren’t free, particularly on a mobile!) she returns with the bad news.
The fax was never sent. There were no instructions to cancel.
I’m leaving the country in 20 minutes, and Jessops still has £1120 of my money for a transaction that never happened.
There’ll now be a short intermission before we continue with part 3.
