I'm about to get into my 4th winey post, so I thought I'd better clear up a couple of things.
I DO, in general, like San Diego very much. My job has been great so far, the people are nice, and the weather is better than San Francisco and only going to improve. I have not, however, been impressed by the service industry (beyond the cute bartenders).
Issue #1: Furniture
I bought a new bedroom set -- dresser with mirror, platform bed, attached night tables, and adjustable head rests -- at least thats what 70 year old salesman called them. I see many other possibilities in adjustable padded cushions ;)
I bought it on a Saturday -- it was supposed to be delivered that Thursday while I was still off work. They called me Tuesday to say there was a piece missing, and they wanted to get me brand new stuff, so could I wait. They said it would be in the following Monday, and they would call about delivery.
Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday went without a phone call. When I finally called them on Thursday, they said they still didn't have it, they wouldn't have it until Monday, and they thanked me for my patience. I said, "No. I'm not being patient anymore. I'm now upset, and I would like to know how you are going to compensate me for the fact that you will have my money for two weeks without me having furniture." No reply.
They finally scheduled delivery for the Thursday two weeks after the original date. They told me I had to be available from 1-3 for delivery and set up. The delivery team, while pleasant and professional, got there at 2:45, and proceeded to take until 4:30 to deliver the bed. This would have been fine, except that I was now working and had to ditch out.
Oh, and one more thing -- the "new" dresser I had waited for had a picture in it that belonged to someone else. I'm already drafting a nasty letter in my head.
Issue #2: Hair
I needed a haircut before the Palm Springs softball tournament, so I asked someone with decent looking short hair where they got it cut and went there. It was a busy shop, mostly young Latino and African-American barbers. Knowing no one specific, I took the first open guy (nothing new there). He did what I wanted, and a good job. Unfortunately, he wasn't there when I went back this week, so I had to try another guy. He didn't really do what I had told him, despite my basically pointing to a picture on the wall. When I got home and put some product in my hair, I noticed the top was about 8 different lengths.
I thought I was, perhaps, being overly prissy. Until I went to get it fixed somewhere else. Barber #2 noticed the clean back, and mentioned that it looked pretty good. When I explained about the top, he ran a comb through a couple of times -- and went "hmmm". As we chatted about where I had gotten it cut, he mentioned that he knew some of the guys at that shop.
"If you're not comfortable cuttting a white guys hair, you should just say it," he said.
I thought I had been dealing with a few stray strands. "Was it THAT bad?"
"It was pretty bad," he said. Fortunately, it's better now, though a little shorter than I had planned. I will probably go back to this guy, but I feel a little bad about ditching the guy who did a decent job the first time.
Issue #3: Coffee
This one is pretty simple -- I went to Peet's in Hillcrest at about 1500. I asked for a DeCaf coffee. They didn't have any. The guy said he would brew some more, and it would be ready in 1 1/2 minutes. Over five minutes later, he gave me a cup of DeCaf. The 5 minute wait didn't kill me, but I know the brewing time is standardized -- either be honest with me about the time, or be on the ball with my coffee. And c'mon, your a coffee shop -- you don't run out of coffee. It would be like a pizza shop running out of pizza. [This is a literary device called foreshadowing.] At least I got a coupon for a free drink.
Issue #4: Pizza
I hate Valentine's Day as a rule, but this one was worse than usual. I couldn't find a bitter/singles event, I don't really have enough friends yet to throw one, and it was Wednesday night, so it wasn't a great night to go out. It didn't help to think I might actually have had someone with whom to spend it if I hadn't left San Francisco, and that my seemingly nice guy from the weekend wasn't calling me back. So I resigned myself to pizza, wine, and the Sopranos on A & E.
In Googling "San Diego Pizza", I found a place called Lefty's that advertized Chicago Style stuffed pies. I called. I got as far as "stuffed pizza with..." when the guy broke in to tell me they were out of pizza. After the coffee, I knew this was not my day. (I probably should have realized it when I posted a blog about a guy not calling back just after midnight.) So I let it go, and ordered a NY style from Bronx Pizza. Not bad. And I know where I'll look next -- this place sound like it might "service" Hillcrest well. It's on Washington Street, the photo is unedited, and I couldn't resist. I just can decided if it's an offer, a request, or an order.