Capitalism has you F*ck’d

by Michelle Lasley

Michelle Lasley is a mother, wife in Pacific Northwest learning to balance green dreams with budget realities.

January 8, 2012

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Categories: Blogging Before SEO

That’s right, says the graffiti on the wall.

My family and I were driving back from the mall. My husband graciously bought me new clothes (that I refused to buy for myself), pants for the 4-year-old, and a tool return for the husband.

First, the pick up from my store was… confusing. They only had one of the three orders, although a second should have arrived two days earlier. The third order won’t arrive for 8 more days. The incredible number of emails received, once the online purchase was complete, was overwhelming. My husband quipped that although we received the “we received your order” email, the “we’re packing your order” email, the “we’ve notified UPS” email, and the “we’ve shipped your order” email, we certainly didn’t receive the “your order arrived” email for two of the orders. In this day of over-communication — who can keep up?

Then, the tool exchange. Craftsman, a derivative of the failing Sear’s, has long had a lifetime warranty for its products. It’s a simple procedure. You buy the US made tool, it breaks, you bring it back, you get a new US made tool. Sear’s (aka K-Mart) isn’t doing well. In an effort to save money, they are shipping manufacturing to China. Quality has dropped exponentially. So, now you bring the US made tool back and get a worse off Chinese made tool.

To add insult to this injury, now Sear’s is requiring a phone number to “minimize the number of returns.” They are now making a worse product, and at the same time enforcing fewer returns on a previous lifetime warranty that could have forced quality manufacturing. They can no longer stand by their product.

My husband and I were expressing our frustration about these scenarios on our way home. We turned the corner, and we saw the writing on the wall.

Capitalism
has you
FUCK’D

The graffiti was plain, clear, and new. It was under the bridge on our way home. Its timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

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