Fetch Is Holding Office Hours

I have big, big news.

You remember Fetch? That “package delivery service” our apartment building uses which is not a service and often fails to deliver packages? The one we’ve suggested, now and then, we’d like to sue in a class-action lawsuit, provided we have grounds for such content?

Well, check out the email our leasing office sent to the building last week:

Hi (building),

We will be having one of the Fetch representatives on-site to be able to meet with our residents and discuss any concerns/questions they might have. Please stop by the clubhouse on August 16th between 4-5:30 pm to do so.

Thank you,
(leasing office)

August 16^th? That’s tomorrow!

I need to prepare for the meeting, so this is me preparing. Let’s start by defining our objective.

Our objective for my one-on-one with Fetch’s highest officers is for me to cathartically release my rage. That can’t be what they experience, though. I can’t just be the angry guy. Partially because whoever draws the short straw and has to represent Fetch in public is living a bad enough life as it is. I mean, imagine working for an entity hellbent on ripping, seam from seam, the fabric of millions of lives. In other words, I can’t say, “How ashamed are you to personally earn a living off of the biggest scam since Bernie Madoff sold diet pills?” At least for the first question (if they’re rude, all bets are off—I will be the bigger person here, but I reserve the right to only very narrowly be the bigger person). What do we want their experience to be, then? Well, ideally after tomorrow at least one Fetch employee will realize, “There is a man out there who thoroughly loathes our enterprise. And he makes some good points!”

So, what are the points? I don’t think I’m going to get anywhere quibbling over whether or not Fetch has a purpose (it doesn’t, but good luck to me making them see that). I want to let them know that myself and legions of my blog’s readers (probably shouldn’t mention the blog) believe this, but I don’t want to spend the only time I’ll ever have with a Fetch representative arguing a point they’re paid to be unreasonable about. I think the core thing, at the outset, needs to be the time they made me wait nearly four hours only to ultimately not deliver the package. And I need to phrase that as a question.

“A few weeks ago, I was made to wait for a four-hour window for an oversized package. Twenty minutes before the four hours ended, I got a message saying it wouldn’t be delivered during the window, and that I’d need to pick another time. How does that happen?”

Now we’re rolling. Other questions:

“A surprising number of my packages go missing. Way more than have gone missing anywhere else I’ve lived. Why is that? And with businesses like Amazon so willing to refund missing packages, how do you prevent theft at your facilities?”

“When I contact Fetch’s ‘customer service’ department, it takes more than 48 hours to get a response, and the representatives often end up talking to me about someone else’s package, not mine. Why does it take so long? What’s being done to make that process functional?”

“Do you think you’re going to Hell for assisting Fetch in its scheme to ruin humanity?”

Once we’ve gotten through those reasonable ones, I think I give the ‘Fetch has no purpose’ message as a parting shot:

“All I’m trying to tell you is that every single piece of the Fetch experience is horrible. And that stinks. But it’s even worse because the whole benefit you’re supposed to be providing doesn’t exist. More packages disappear, and those that make it arrive later than they would just delivered from the carrier. No, no—let me finish. I know you’re being paid to lie to me and pretend Fetch has a purpose. But I just want Fetch to know that at least one person really hopes it goes out of business soon. And judging by what I see on the Better Business Bureau, Google, social media, and other places, it’s not just one person.”

Will that teach ‘em? Absolutely not. This is going to accomplish nothing. But if I can leave with a zinger, I’m going to be riding high tomorrow night. (More realistically, there’s a 99% chance I fall asleep tomorrow thinking, “Ooh, I should’ve said THIS!”)

Maybe I should bring my pocket Constitution.