Archived posting to the Leica Users Group, 1998/03/18
[Author Prev] [Author Next] [Thread Prev] [Thread Next] [Author Index] [Topic Index] [Home] [Search]I've noted a continuing background thread concerning people's reactions to Don Chatterton. It seems they either love him or hate him. Let me recount my first and only Chatterton experience: I saw an unusually low price on the DCI webpage for new 50/2.8 Elmar-Ms. The price, in combination with my mood that week, popped such a lens into the impulse-purchase category. I called the DCI phone number. I got a recording stating that everyone was busy, and inviting me to leave a message. I did so. The next day, a bit over 24 hours later, I hadn't been called back. I called again. Same recording. I didn't know if my message had even been received, if they were on an extended holiday, if my message had been garbled; I wanted some kind of ACK that communication had actually occurred. The Chatterton phone system offers no option for holding until someone gets to you; you either get a live person on the first ring, or you're at the voice-mail. So I kept calling, hanging up and trying again whenever I got the $#@% machine. After a few tries, somebody living *did* pick up. He was really annoyed, said I was driving the phone system and people crazy, said they were backed up because people were out with the flu, and if I'd left a message I should just wait to be called back. Okay, fine. Not very satisfying, but seems fair. It didn't seem that likely the transaction would really occur if I waited for a callback -- chances were I'd be away from my desk when and if they called back, and would thus waste another day playing phone-tag -- so I decided to try another approach. I wrote out exactly what I wanted, where I wanted it shipped, how fast I wanted it shipped, full credit-card information, and full contact information on a piece of paper and faxed it. Round about the day the lens was due to arrive, I called the shipping destination to see if it'd gotten there. Nope. I called Chatterton to make sure it'd been shipped. This time, someone (Chatterton himself, maybe? I was never sure exactly who I was talking to) picked up. [paraphrasing] "So, how 'bout that order I faxed in? Been shipped?" "Nope." "Um, why? Out of product?" "Nope, the destination was a Mail Boxes Etcetera in New York. We keep losing money to fraud when we ship places like that." "Did you think maybe you could have TOLD ME you were ignoring my order, the order I carefully timed for arrival before the weekend? Maybe somebody could have CALLED the number on the fax and discussed this with me instead of just silently turfing it? And besides, the shipping address isn't actually in New York, it's in New Jersey." "Whatever, it's all the same place. And two-thirds of my people are out with the flu." [I have things shipped to a Mail Boxes Etcetera store because I'm not reliably at home to receive shipments, and because the folk who run this MBE are as honest as the day is long. They're such sticklers they still insist on seeing ID when I pick things up, even though they know me by sight by now. UPS or FedEx deliveries to my home often find me out. I *can* receive U.S. Post Office deliveries, because they'll deliver a notification and hold a package for pickup at the office. So...] "What if I arrange to have that shipping address registered with the credit-card company as an officially-sanctioned destination?" "Nope." "How about the U. S. Mail?" "Nope." Eventually, the guy volunteered that he could send it COD to a FedEx branch, one of which is quite convenient to me. But by now, it wouldn't arrive 'til after the weekend, forcing me to either delay processing the first M6HM test-roll I'd be shooting that weekend, or try out the lens on a different roll. (Yeah, poor sad me.) How'd it all work out? The lens arrived exactly when he said it would, the price was great, and the lens appears to be perfect. All's well that ends well. Chatterton didn't do anything dishonorable or dishonest, and yes, I guess you can't expect a company to handle all usual traffic when operating at one-third staff. But... somehow it still left a bad taste in my mouth. I mean, I wasn't wasting anybody's time schmoozing about collector minutiae and not buying anything; I was trying over and over again to hand them my money for product, in the most straightforward way, and it seemed like they couldn't be bothered to take it. Do they do such scary volume that they can do that? It's the flu. It must be the flu.