Where’s the &#$@ing Quality Control?

Not only has customer service gone down the crapper, so has quality control. Call me crazy but when I go to Starbucks, I expect my grande iced white mocha to taste a certain way. If I am going to spend $4 on a freaking cup of coffee, I want it to like a grande iced white mocha. I don’t want it to taste like the bottom of the rotten milk carton smells.

As I mentioned before, I heart McDonald’s vanilla iced coffee. It rocks and for only $2 it’s truly makes my heart skip a beat. But every once in a while, I like to indulge in a little Starbucky goodness. Okay, typically it’s on a day when my kids are driving me batty that I go for the Starbucks.

Today was obviously one of those days. We were at a little furniture store buying a “big-girl” bed for the Big One.  She currently sleeps in the Step 2 Fire Engine Bed . It’s very, very cute, but she plays on it more than sleeps on it.  So the Husband and I decided we’d try a twin bed. We took the parental unit with us last weekend to look for kiddie beds and found this cute picket fence-like bed.

I took the kiddos today to buy it and set-up the delivery time. The Little One, who is generally the sweetest child in the world, started screaming like a crazy person in the store. There were alligator tears, shrieks and general unhappiness oozing from her. Not to be outdone, the Big One was loud, climbing on all the beds and generally unruly.

Once we paid for the bed. {God, I hope the mattress is comfortable. I’m really not sure which one I paid for as my kids were out of control.} We head for the car, but not before the Big One screams “I pee-peed…. I pee-peed” at which time she starts doing the cowboy walk out of the store. Seeing as how she was climbing on the one mattress that didn’t have a plastic cover on it, I quickly ushered her to the car and prayed that the diaper wasn’t leaking.

Once I get the Big One changed and both kids strapped in, I head for Starbucks. Yes, I have mapped out almost every one with a drive-thru so I knew exactly where to go. I ordered my 470 calorie beverage, my mouth was watering at the thought of that first sip. Imagine my disappointment, no angst, no rage as that first sip almost killed me. Seriously almost crashed the car into the back of a big old white van that was in front of us as I tried to choke down whatever crap it was that they put in my drink.

On any other day, I would have gone back and asked for my money, but considering my frustration level today I chose to merely focus on driving home and putting the kids down for a nap, figuring that $4 wasted was better than eternity in prison. I am afraid that if I would have gone in there the poor unsuspecting barista who tried to poison me would have been my dad’s next customer. {I know you are curious now, what does her dad do? Ask me, I might tell you}

What would you have done? Have you ever gone back someplace and demanded money or a new drink? Or opened up a can of whoop-arse on some schmuck who tried to poison you?