I pit Lowe's delivery

Lowe’s commercials promise one day delivery. I guess they mean your order will be delivered one day if you wait long enough.

I bought three appliances over six weeks ago. I’m sitting here waiting for them to be delivered. I called for a delivery date weeks ago. It was supposed to be here between 8:00 am and noon.

Needless to say, my appliances haven’t been delivered yet. Nor did I get any phone calls. I called the store. They called the driver and found out he’s in Rochester. What the hell is he doing in Rochester? Your store is two miles away from my house. Rochester is twenty five miles away in the other direction.

I’m told they’ll get there “around one”. I ask how long the unloading will take because I have to leave for work at two. She doesn’t know how long it will take but it should be “really quick”. I ask why there is a delay and I’m told that another delivery must have taken “a long time”. Really? So are deliveries really quick or do they take a long time? Or do you just make up whatever answer sounds better at the time?

I repeat that there is a time factor here and I can’t wait into the afternoon. She tells me that the delivery might be “early”. This is when I finally lose it. I ask her how the delivery can possibly be early at this point. She tells me that it might get there before one. I point out that it was scheduled to be here between eight and twelve. That makes 7:30 “early”. Anything after noon is “late”.

I thought this was going to be about Rob Lowe’s acting.

For our information:

Were the appliances in stock or were they special order. Because I beleive they only promise next day delivery for in-stock items.

The rest of your rant, though, is pretty good.

And I thought it was going to be about Derek Lowe’s pitching mechanics.

that’s too bad - we had a good experience with our local Lowe’s delivering new kitchen cabinets. Seems like a lot of places that like to tout their service really aren’t into performing it as much as they like to talk. Or maybe they talk so much because maybe we’ll believe their words and not their actions.

This one’s easy to solve. Lowe’s gives you a window the morning of delivery. Let’s say it’s 8AM to 4PM. That means they’ll get there at around 5PM. And that’s the rule of thumb for anybody delivering an appliance. They’ll arrive an hour after the insanely-long window their dispatcher gives you over the phone.

Exactly right. The industry standard seems to be one hour after the window. Delivery folks are pretty precise about that one hour though, in my experience.

I thought it was going to be about preferring covers of Nick Lowe songs to his originals.

Unless you take a nap, a shower, or water the back garden. Then they will arrive in the middle of the time window, but park out of sight down the road, tiptoe to the door, and give the barest tickle of a single knock on your door, and logging you on the clipboard as “delivery attempted, occupant not home”.

You are right, I forgot about that. A watched delivery man never arrives.

I scheduled deliveries for one year. Twice I had customers call at the end of their delivery window (I gave 4-hour windows) asking where their delivery was. Both times, when I called my guys, they were either a) at the customer’s door b) in the truck in the customer’s driveway. (Only once did I have to cancel four deliveries become one delivery did, in fact, take a long time. How long is a long time? 6 hours.)

To the OP, you were probably near the end of the delivery list. Most career delivery folk believe the best way to schedule deliveries is to start with the furthest away and work your way back. Why? Well, they’re career delivery folk for a reason. I always started with the nearest stop and scheduled progressively away from home base. After a day of deliveries the guys simply drove all the way back home and it wouldn’t matter if they hit traffic, or other unforeseen events.

It isn’t hard to schedule deliveries, it is just hard to find a competent person to do it.


I ordered a dishwasher a few weeks ago from Best Buy and was told it would be delivered (and installed) between 12 noon and 3 p.m. on the day I chose. I asked them to call me half an hour before the installers would show up. They called me at 9:30. A.M. I wasn’t home because my expectation was that they would be there between noon and 3 p.m., not 2 1/2 hours early. It all worked out though.

My favorite was the delivery guy who claimed he came to our front door, but didn’t knock or ring the bell, because we had a baby in the house and he wouldn’t have wanted to wake it. Apparently he stood there a few minutes in case my wife happened to open the door. So we had to wait another 3 days of fouled clothing to get our new washer & dryer.

I had the same problem with Lowes. I bought a dryer from them and arranged delivery for something like three days later- I could have had it delivered earlier but I postponed it for two reasons:

1- I knew I was going to be going into work late (evening shift) that day
2- It was the first day they had a morning delivery slot open

So you’d think 3 days notice is peachy keen. I’m supposed to go into work at 1 so that meant I’d leave my apartment by 12:45. At 12:45 guess who was on the phone for the severalth time trying to find out where the hell Lowes was with my dryer and who heard for the severalth time “He’s just around the corner and you’re the next one on the list”. If you answered “Sampiro”, give yourself two apricots and a spritzer.

He arrived about 1:15 (I’d resolved to take off time because I think I was wearing my last clean clothing). My favorite thing was that he came to the door where I had pushed the old dryer out (because I was also clear that I wanted take-away service) and asked “Were you expecting a dryer from Lowes?” and then “Did you want us to take that one away?” (No son, I wanted two dryers- one inside for convenience and the other on the porch because nothing smells as good as clothes that are dried outside! HERE’S YOUR SIGN!)

Yes, that ~1 hour post promised delivery window rule is so standard that I’ve come to expect and rely upon it. It’s a rule that has never, in my experience, been broken. That is, until last week—by my arch nemesis (for other reasons) Sears.

“Your KitchenAid dishwasher will be delivered tomorrow between 11 and 1:00pm.”

“Thank you, I’ll be expecting them”, I reply. About 2pm or so, I’m guessing.

So tomorrow morning around 10-ish finds me in the living room with my young daughters, ages 7 and 9 (which, BTW, is the new 38 and premenopausal), watching some type of high-brow educational program on the television set, involving a rather absorbing, though squarish sort of fellow, as I recall.

Then, out of the blue, the doorbell rings, totally breaking my reverie over the on-screen undersea crustacean goings-on that was holding me mesmerized. Just as I was thinking, who the…?, my youngest bolts from my lap toward the front door. *Surely it can’t be the Sears guy, can it? *A quick glance through the doorway reveals that, yes indeed, it can and was the Sears guy, I can tell by the hat visible through the front door window.

Dang-burn it, I didn’t empty the dishes from the soon-to-be-sent-to-the-major-appliance-graveyard dishwasher, yet—how embarrassing. But, no sooner did that thought stop firing neurons in my brain, than an even more desperate one took its place. A very bad thought, indeed. You see, the only way to get to my bedroom from where I now was in the living room, was down the hall, crossing the foyer, in direct sight-line with the front door—the door my devilish young daughter, Beelzebub, was approaching at near light-speed. “Don’t answer that door until I…!”, but it was too late, the door was open before I could say any more.

The reason I was now obsessed with getting to my bedroom was because that was where my pants were and I really wanted the two of us to be reunited. Oh, I did have pants on, one can’t lounge around the house with young daughters without some type of concealment—but they were underpants. And, to be honest, if they were just your typical plain ol’ white tighty-whities or boxers, it would have been no big deal (flashing the deliveryman’s field of vision with a blur of white could have been easily explainable, I reasoned) . But, of course, they weren’t. No, by some quirk of psychology, this morning I pushed aside all my bland white underpants and chose to wear my bright yellow pair—the ones portraying the same fellow I was just watching on TV, ironically enough. Unfortunately, there’s really no protocol for upholding ones sense of dignity when one has a huge Spongebob Squarepants plastered on one’s crotch.

I had no choice, my daughters (the oldest decided to get in on the fun, too) were now chatting it up with the Sears delivery man in the foyer and calling for me to come out and greet him, I had to make a run for the bedroom and somehow explain the streaking yellow blur when I emerged fully clothed. At least there’s a good chance he won’t notice SpongeBob’s likeness on my manly bits and damages can be kept to a minimum. That probably would have worked, too, except for the fact that my wife had our wood floors waxed just last week. Feet clad only in socks scurrying across a freshly waxed floor have a low coefficient of friction (did I mention I was wearing socks?). *1,2,3, GO!*On my way speedily to the bedroom, I slipped on the floor just a couple of feet from the onlooking foyer trio, SpongeBob-side up, recovered and proceeded on to my destination, managing to squeek out, “I’ll be right with you” before closing the bedroom door.

Now, fully clothed and thinking maybe things weren’t all that bad after all, I open the door and walk down the hallway back toward the Sears guy and my two progeny, Diablo and Lucifer, just as they’re explaining, quite passionately, how their dad just loves SpongeBob Squarepants. “You’ve got a couple of funny girls here”, deadpans Mr. Sears Deliveryman.

“Yeah, it’s kind of a shame I’m enrolling ‘em in Military School next week and won’t get to see them much anymore.”


And am I the only one who thought the thread was going to be about Thaddeus S. C. Lowe’s attempt to pilot a hot-air balloon across the Atlantic in 1860?

Wow, this was great!

Well no, but interestingly and coincidentally, self-made aeronaut, Thaddeus S. C. Lowe used to study the book, A System of Aeronautics, written by my esteemed, though ultimately unlucky, Great-Great Grand Uncle, balloonist John Wise (my PopPop called him Hot Air Johnnie), who after 463 ascents, disappeared in 1879, age 71, on a trip in high winds over Lake Michigan—leaving no trace of he or his passenger. :frowning:

When I have more time I will regale y’all with 3 days of how best buy failed to sell me a big screen TV thanks to the delivery people.