Or, why I hate Topshop, Canada Post, and also my neighbours

In the last week of October 2017, I purchased a salt and pepper peacoat from Topshop at the Rideau Centre. I wish that that were the end of the story, but if you’ve been following along with this column and the series of unfortunate events that is my life, of course, it isn’t.

Our story begins when I went into the store to purchase the coat, was told they didn’t have my size in stock, but could order it for me online instead and have it shipped to my house within 10 days free of charge. Pretty unexceptional so far. I gave Dana*, the store manager, all of my information, paid for the coat, collected my receipt and went home.

About 15 business days later, I had gotten no email confirmation from either Canada Post, or Topshop, and I had no coat. I went back to the store where Ruby*, a salesperson, informed me based on my receipt, and the Canada Post office downstairs, that my coat was sent to the wrong house, and that my neighbours had signed for it.

This was all very weird and Ruby was super helpful and commiserating. He told me that the store would give me a refund, but that it had to go through the Hudson’s Bay Company because it was purchased online. He also said that I could repurchase the coat, which was now back in stock, in store once the refund went through, which would be in three to five business days.

As a sidenote, I went to my neighbours’ house to see if they still had the package but despite the lights being on, no one answered the door, because everyone is the worst.

A week went by, and I had seen no sign of a refund, so I went back to the store, where they told me it should be coming, and that because it was now Cyber Monday (yes friends, a month had passed), I could purchase the coat in store for half off the original price. Since I am incredibly impatient and impulsive, I decided this was a good deal and seeing as I had no reason to doubt I would get refunded for the first one, I bought the coat. It’s marvelous. Here’s a photo. If you look closely, you can see Bob Ross on my hoodie (and in my heart).

Don’t even talk to me unless you’re a happy little tree 👋

A post shared by anchal (@anchalsharmy) on

Anyway, long story short, it’s now February, two seasons have passed, I became an aunt again, started and stopped seeing someone, got a new glasses prescription and two new frames, cut off all my hair, turned 20, celebrated a new year, and began a new job, but I still haven’t gotten my refund.

I also know three Topshop employees by name, which is more than I can say for some of the people I actually work with.

Honestly, it’s not even about the money. Okay, it’s a little bit about the money (I’m a student journalist, I basically make negative dollars), but mostly it’s the principle of the matter.

For maybe the first time ever, something stupid that happened to me isn’t the consequence of one of my actions.

I’m not sure why I never received any of the confirmation emails the employees at Topshop said I should be getting, I don’t know why Canada Post thought it was cool when someone who wasn’t me signed for a package in my name, and I don’t know why my neighbours stole my coat and never opened the door for me. What I do know is that there has to be a better way to deal with this. And I mean, I get it. it’s not their fault my neighbours stole my coat, or that Canada Post has a terrible delivery system, but dang flabbit, they promised me a refund and I will not rest until I see it. Or a store credit, I could live with that.  

*Employee names have been changed.