Orvis Side Zipper Wading Boot Sole Failure
- Thread starter Ceviche
- Start date
To conclude this odyssey, I hereby post a review of Orvis that will soon also be found elsewhere online. Fkrs!
The day before I brought in my side-zipper Brouge wading boots in, I called up the downtown Seattle Orvis shop to inquire about their return or repair warranty policy with my ten-or-so old boots. The guy I spoke with looked my info up and informed me that my receipt was in their records and that I can expect a $180 discount off a new purchase, because my boots have been discontinued and can’t be exchanged. Is that not the best thing ever?! Moreover, he said that I don’t even need to bring my old boots down with me: I can keep them if I want to dispose of them on my own. That was Friday, 9/23.
The next afternoon, I bring my old boots down with me—just to keep a show of proof that my boots failed in the weird way that I described and that my claim was real and honest. So I’m talking with Matt—iirc his name.
Everything is going great. I show Matt my broken boot. I mention that I spoke with someone the day before about the exchange/return/refund etc. We look at the latest and greatest of Orvis’ wading boots. I figured, that, with a $180 warranty refund value, I might as well spend hella extra to make sure Orvis gets at least a good chunk of my cash to recompense their generous exchange plan—or so I thought.
So I’m feeling good about everything—I even buy some fly tying materials to support my received generosity. I got my Pro Hybrid felt + Michelin rubber sole boots and tying materials, and feeling good about the scene. Feeling the Orvis love, talk the talk, pay the bill, and head down 1st Ave back to my truck.
About two or so blocks down, I think to double-check my receipt. Dug that fucker out from between the box and the shopping bag. Like: WTF-OVER?! No sign of the quoted $180 exchange value on the slip!
No $180 = 180 degree turnaround.
Back at the store, I remind Matt that I was supposed to get a refund off the original price of my Brogue boots: $180. And that I spoke with someone the day before.
Then, there is this young dude, who is standing next to Matt, who says to Matt: he was the one who spoke with me over the phone. But it’s as if Matt isn’t quite registering the facts and, moreover, young guy is glancing sideways at Matt—as if he’s either thinking or seeing that something isn’t going down right. And feeling quite uncertain about it all.
Matt isn’t really looking me in the eye, at this point. I repeat the $180. He says it isn’t that much. He just says: $80. And I didn’t even see him pull up any kind of reference nor talk with young guy who I spoke with over the phone. No move or gesture towards clarification. So I mention: “Just $80?” No move to clarify or confer with the guy standing next to him that I spoke with over the phone.
I’m thinking, wtf. I suppose that $80 is better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick, right? So, wtf. Okay, fine. And then he asks for my old boots, so they can be “recycled.” F’kin’ double-fack! So now, I can no longer have a choice about what I want to do with a pair of boots that I once paid for already?
I’m so worn down with consecutive disappointment, that I just hand over my old boots that I only brought along as proof of failure but was thinking of holding onto.
When I finally left, it occurred to me that, had I known, ahead of making the purchase, that my final, out-of -pocket expense was going to be $100+ more than I thought, I very likely would have gone elsewhere and bought a different pair of wading boots—and definitely would not have bought fly tying materials at that shop.
I mean, if a customer comes in with an assumption that is clearly contrary to store policy, it is incumbent upon the employee to at least try to clear up any potential misunderstanding to the satisfaction of the customer. Right? And certainly not just pull numbers and figures out of his ass and breeze that shit on you without at least acknowledging what you just pointed out along with another store representative pointing out the truth of a prior conversation. Right?
I say I got fucked and am putting the spotlight on Downtown Seattle Orvis.
The day before I brought in my side-zipper Brouge wading boots in, I called up the downtown Seattle Orvis shop to inquire about their return or repair warranty policy with my ten-or-so old boots. The guy I spoke with looked my info up and informed me that my receipt was in their records and that I can expect a $180 discount off a new purchase, because my boots have been discontinued and can’t be exchanged. Is that not the best thing ever?! Moreover, he said that I don’t even need to bring my old boots down with me: I can keep them if I want to dispose of them on my own. That was Friday, 9/23.
The next afternoon, I bring my old boots down with me—just to keep a show of proof that my boots failed in the weird way that I described and that my claim was real and honest. So I’m talking with Matt—iirc his name.
Everything is going great. I show Matt my broken boot. I mention that I spoke with someone the day before about the exchange/return/refund etc. We look at the latest and greatest of Orvis’ wading boots. I figured, that, with a $180 warranty refund value, I might as well spend hella extra to make sure Orvis gets at least a good chunk of my cash to recompense their generous exchange plan—or so I thought.
So I’m feeling good about everything—I even buy some fly tying materials to support my received generosity. I got my Pro Hybrid felt + Michelin rubber sole boots and tying materials, and feeling good about the scene. Feeling the Orvis love, talk the talk, pay the bill, and head down 1st Ave back to my truck.
About two or so blocks down, I think to double-check my receipt. Dug that fucker out from between the box and the shopping bag. Like: WTF-OVER?! No sign of the quoted $180 exchange value on the slip!
No $180 = 180 degree turnaround.
Back at the store, I remind Matt that I was supposed to get a refund off the original price of my Brogue boots: $180. And that I spoke with someone the day before.
Then, there is this young dude, who is standing next to Matt, who says to Matt: he was the one who spoke with me over the phone. But it’s as if Matt isn’t quite registering the facts and, moreover, young guy is glancing sideways at Matt—as if he’s either thinking or seeing that something isn’t going down right. And feeling quite uncertain about it all.
Matt isn’t really looking me in the eye, at this point. I repeat the $180. He says it isn’t that much. He just says: $80. And I didn’t even see him pull up any kind of reference nor talk with young guy who I spoke with over the phone. No move or gesture towards clarification. So I mention: “Just $80?” No move to clarify or confer with the guy standing next to him that I spoke with over the phone.
I’m thinking, wtf. I suppose that $80 is better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick, right? So, wtf. Okay, fine. And then he asks for my old boots, so they can be “recycled.” F’kin’ double-fack! So now, I can no longer have a choice about what I want to do with a pair of boots that I once paid for already?
I’m so worn down with consecutive disappointment, that I just hand over my old boots that I only brought along as proof of failure but was thinking of holding onto.
When I finally left, it occurred to me that, had I known, ahead of making the purchase, that my final, out-of -pocket expense was going to be $100+ more than I thought, I very likely would have gone elsewhere and bought a different pair of wading boots—and definitely would not have bought fly tying materials at that shop.
I mean, if a customer comes in with an assumption that is clearly contrary to store policy, it is incumbent upon the employee to at least try to clear up any potential misunderstanding to the satisfaction of the customer. Right? And certainly not just pull numbers and figures out of his ass and breeze that shit on you without at least acknowledging what you just pointed out along with another store representative pointing out the truth of a prior conversation. Right?
I say I got fucked and am putting the spotlight on Downtown Seattle Orvis.
Personally, after ten years of use I wouldn’t have expected any type of discount on a new pair of boots.
SF
SF
I hear that. But my gripe is that I was told one thing but got stuck with another—even when another salesperson was trying to affirm what I said.
