Office Depot done wrong. Office Depot done right.

Cleaning The Condo was more emotional than I think we expected seeing as it was the fourth such "cleaning". Memories, shared belongings, and the finality of it all affected each of us and manifested itself in different ways through the four days we were together, coming to a head on the last day in, of all places, Office Depot.

We had shredding. Mounds and mounds of shredding that my SIL Susan and I tackled each day. I investigated the paperwork, making piles to keep and shred. Susan did the shredding morning, noon, and night. Any down time Susan was shredding. The machine would get overheated and she would have to take a break before resuming when the red light flicked off. It was tedious and so she suggested we take it to Office Depot where they shredded.

I reminded her that I wanted to watch the shredding take place. While I know that there are a million companies that will haul away your shredding in "locked boxes", eventually someone has to unlock the box and do the shredding. It isn't like they shred the entire box unopened. Having just had to sign up for protection after being one of the many people whose information was stolen, I don't trust anyone or anything no matter locked or not. I wanted to watch the shredding, and since I called a million places after my mother died and couldn't find any place willing to shred while I waited, I poo poohed Office Depot.

Mark me wrong. A phone call to Office Depot revealed they do shred while you wait, and while my Office Depot, the one closest to my house, said up to five pounds the Office Depot closest to The Condo, according to Amy who took the call, said under 50 pounds was "no problem". We took our three file boxes loaded with twenty plus years of paperwork after finishing the cleaning of The Condo in the late afternoon of my brother's last day in Florida.

Rusty: "Now that your selling The Condo out from under me this will be my last visit to Florida. It was nice to spend this time with you. It's been real."

That would be his manifestation. He refused to come in with us, instead dropping us off in front of the Office Depot so that he could park and "take a nap". Susan, holding two of the boxes in her hands, went into the store ahead of me. Entering the store, to the left of us was a long counter with several cash registers and a wrap around line. To the right was the circular counter for Office Depot's printing and all around us was the merchandise. Unlike Staples, there was no service counter, and so Susan and I continued straight into the store our heads rotating from left to right as we searched for a sign of some sort to know where to head.

There was one male at the check out counter standing alone. There was no one in line. He ignored us. There were two females at the printing counter, one older female working with a customer directly at the counter and another younger female working behind the counter while a customer stood waiting. The older female looked up as Susan walked further into the store, made eye contact with her, and stared. Susan, taking that as a sign asking if she could assist in some way, said one word, "Shredding?"

The woman told her that was done at this counter, and that we would need to wait our turn, and so we walked to the right and stood behind the sign that directed us to wait here for the printing service. We were about two feet from the counter and the older female, and as we lined up like we were taught in kindergarten, she commented to her customer, "Well. That was certainly rude, wasn't it?"

That one word question, shredding?, set off a chain of events that went downhill, WAY downhill, from that moment.

We waited two minutes before the younger employee asked if she could help us. Her face was unsmiling as if carved from stone and her attitude was immediately condescending. It was the oddest thing. I stepped up with the file boxes.

Me: "Hi, I need some shredding done."
Her: "Ok, your documents will go into a securely locked box that cannot be accessed. Each week we have a company that comes and picks up the locked boxes and shreds the contents. It cost .99 cents a pound."
Me: "I'm not interesting in that. I want to shred my documents while I wait. I was told that you do that."
Her: "We do, but I assure you that we cannot get into the locked box where we put your documents. The company comes once a week..."
Me:"Yes, I understand all of that. I'm not interested in doing that, thank you. I called earlier and was told you shred while I wait. Do you not do that?"
Her: "I'm trying to explain to you that this is a reputable company. Many of the local banks in the area use the same company. The boxes are locked and no one can get into them. It's very secure."
Me: "So you don't shred while I wait?"
Her: "We do, but that costs $2.39 a pound. The other way is only .99 a pound. No one can get into the locked boxes."
Me: "That's fine. I understand all of that. I want to stand here and watch someone shred my documents."
Her: "Well, that can take a long time. Like, a half an hour depending on the pounds. The other way is easier. I just throw the documents into the locked box."
Me: "So, you don't want to shred my documents? Is that what you're telling me?"
Her: "No, I'm not saying that at all. I'm trying to get you to understand that the locked boxes are totally secure."
Me: "I understand. I don't want to do that."
Her: "Then lets weigh your first box."

I emptied the first box of papers on to a scale. It came to five pounds. She asked me if I wanted to shred that first. I said sure.

Her: "Just so you know, though, that this could take time. I have to wait on customers."
Me: "Okay."
Her: "So, it could take a half and hour, maybe longer. If someone comes in I have to leave the shredding and wait on them. I want you to understand that."
Me: "Okay."

She picked up my five pounds of papers and walked two feet to the shredder which stood off to the side of the counter against a wall. It was a large shredder and came up to her waist. She took about four pieces of paper and put it into the shredder. She waited for it finish and she took four more pages. Susan and I looked at each other. What the hell? Meanwhile, the older employee, the one who thought Susan rude, had finished with her first customer and moved on to another.

When another customer came in, our girl left the shredder and waited on him. Finished with that one, she shredded a few pieces of paper and then the shredder beeped. She emptied this huge sack of shredded paper, not with my stuff mind you since she hadn't made a dent in my pile, and she refused to shred paper until someone came at her bidding into a device hooked to her shoulder to carry it away. It took ten minutes for someone to haul away the sack. During that time more and more customers arrived, and the two women worked with helping them. One customer came in to make copies which is something customers can do on their own. My shredder girl, however, insisted on spending five minutes teaching her how to copy. It was ridiculous, and Susan and I were getting more irritated as the worst customer service ever continued.

My heart began its rapid beating and skipping. Susan stepped outside to call another company, and returned shaking her head, The copier ran out of paper and instead of just getting the paper our shredder girl checked the machine and then took five minutes getting the paper out of the cabinet. I am not exaggerating, because at this point I was timing everything. So much for the above sign that said, "No job is too big or too small" when it came to shredding.

I finally grabbed her as she moved off to put the paper into the copy machine. I told her that I was done waiting and that I wanted my stuff. I went to get it and she screamed at me, telling me I couldn't go get it for "safety" reasons. At that point, Susan took off to find a manager, and I put my head into my hands on the counter and worked hard at getting myself together because I could feel myself losing it. I started silently crying, trying desperately to rein it in.

Susan, meanwhile, had found the manager and complained. She told him how it had gone down from the moment we walked in. She asked why we weren't customers, why our shredding was put on hold when other customers arrived, and why the five employees standing behind him couldn't help out since they were just standing there. And then she started crying. She told him she had lost her MIL, needed this shredding, and that this store sucked in customer service. As she turned to leave, he offered to do the shredding, the entire job for free, and called over a male employee to do just that. The two of them headed back to me.

Susan gently put her hand on my back and started rubbing it as she explained the job would now be done by someone else and for free, and I lost it. I started sobbing, great gulping, heaving sobs with tears that spilled down my cheeks and wet the entire front of my shirt. The poor male employee didn't know what to do. At this point, shredder girl was paying attention. She offered to keep shredding, but I kept sobbing that I just wanted my paper.

Her: "Okay, but I explained it could take some time. I'll just weigh this again and charge you for what I shredded."

Him: "Uh, no, we aren't charging her at all. And we are going to shred all of this for free."

I refused to let them. By this point I had my money out, and I was shaking so badly that my twenty dollar bill was flying around in the air, and the other employee looked up from her customer and told me there would be no charge. Her face was smirky and her tone condescending, and Susan lost it. She pointed at her and then pointed at the other girl and told them they were rude from the moment we walked in, unhelpful, and didn't belong behind that desk working in customer service. When the first employee asked, "What did we do?" in a shitty tone, Susan walked out of the store.

I looked at the shredder girl, tears still running down my face, and I told her that my mother had died, that my lawyer insisted I shred her paperwork, and that when we called no one told us it would take this long. At that point, I noticed her name tag read Amy. I then told her that we had talked to her when we called earlier and she told us this job would be simple.

Her: "You didn't talk to me. I didn't speak to anyone today about shredding. You must have talked to a computer."

Me: "I hope you never have to deal with a death in your family."

She smirked and said, with absolutely no regret, "Sorry about that."

Me: "No, you're not."

I walked out of the store where Susan waited for me and we both went to the car. When we opened the doors to get inside, Rusty stared at me in disbelief.

Rusty: "Are you crying?"

Susan and I both started talking. We were so angry. We told him the story, and that is when I discovered that Susan too had burst into tears. Rusty just sat in disbelief at both of us.

Rusty: "You cried? Over shredding?"

We told him the story in great detail. He pointed to his clock and told us we had been in the store for over an hour. By the time we were done, he was as annoyed as we were. I mentioned how I had never had this issue with my Office Depot, that I had never had anyone be this rude to me before, and he suggested we try my Office Depot. Since we were going right by it, we agreed to try again, ready to fight back if we encountered any trouble.

Rusty went inside with us. From the moment we walked into the door it was different. The girl at the register to our left welcomed us, offered to help us find something, and directed us to the printing desk where she assured us we would be helped. A girl and a guy worked behind the counter. They both had customers and one customer waited. We got into line, already shocked at the warm welcome.

Rusty: "You do realize that the last store put out pictures of you two in all of the Florida Office Depots warning the employees, right? We're probably on camera right now and the warning is going out all over the store; cry babies are here."

Both customers left, the girl took the next customer, and the guy asked us if he could help us. I went to the desk, explained that I wanted to have the contents of this file box shredded while I watched, and he said, "Sure, no problem." He didn't attempt to tell me about any other shredding. There was no mention of locked boxes and security. He weighed my pile which came to 12 pounds. rang me up, and then said, "Let's do some shredding."

The shredder, the same one with the same sign, was right there behind the desk, and the guy turned his back on the customers in line, took two piles of paper and shredded them both at one time. Susan and I looked at each other in disbelief. Two piles at one time. Why had Amy not done this?

Our shredding guy, Collin, shredded our 12 pounds in six minutes. 12 POUNDS IN SIX MINUTES! TWELVE POUNDS! IN SIX MINUTES! We stood there with our mouths open in disbelief when Collin turned around and said, "There you go. Good?"

WHAT THE HELL? We told both of the employees our story. Susan located the manager of this store and told him the story, complementing him on his well run store and great employees. When told of the other store's location, Enterprise Rd., Clearwater, he nodded as if not surprised. Obviously, that Office Depot store sucks all around enough so that the managers know!

Office Depot reached out to me after I tweeted my displeasure. I responded with my phone number and a request for a phone call to explain my issue. But then I made the mistake of also letting them know that another store stepped up to the plate and handled my job, and they should have that store train the other store's employees. Office Depot responded to that with:"Thank you so much for your feedback Cara, we appreciate it! We will send your feedback to our Customer Service Team!"

Not very satisfying, but other than hiring fifty people with mounds of shredding to descend on that store all at once, I couldn't figure out how to take the complaint further. I truly feel that those two women need help. Not only in customer service, but in human decency. 

And then I heard my mother's voice, "It will one day come back to them. It always does." So, I'm blogging my issue, relying on my mother's wisdom, and never going to set foot in that Enterprise Rd., Clearwater Office Depot again.