Levitz Furniture. Its
slogan: “You’ll love it at Levitz.”
The truth: You’d be more
likely to love six years in the brig at Leavenworth.
This story begins May 8, 1998,
with my mother’s purchase of a cloth-covered Berkline rocker recliner with
heating and massage controls, and a seven-year-repair or full-replacement
warranty policy, at the Levitz Furniture store in Torrance, California.
This story ends November
8, 2004 -- still within the seven-year warranty period -- when Susan Fairfax at
the Levitz corporate office told me by telephone that Levitz will never honor
that warranty.
The heating and the
massage controls on the Berkline recliner failed within six months of
purchase. The recliner could not be
repaired because the model was discontinued and Berkline had no replacement
parts. Levitz refused to replace the unrepairable recliner.
We continued using the
recliner without the broken heat or massage controls.
A year later, the
mechanism on the recliner broke. It would no longer recline. Levitz refused to
repair it and refused to replace it.
Levitz offered us a
credit for the purchase price to buy a new recliner from them, but all the
equivalent recliners Levitz was now selling were over $500 additional out of
our pocket, even using the credit.
After dozens of phone
calls to Levitz and the companies they told us were supposed to honor our
warranties -- National Electric for the
failed heating and massage units, FAP for the fabric, Berkline for the lifetime
warranty on the mechanism – we tried using the credit to purchase a
less-valuable recliner at Levitz – one without the heating and massage
features. But every single time my mother and I attempted to purchase a new
recliner at Levitz using the credit we had been offered, Levitz employees found
some excuse to refuse us the credit. My mother and I made at least a half dozen
attempts, over the next few years, to replace the recliner at Levitz stores,
and all of our attempts failed.
We attempted to have the
recliner repaired, at our own expense, by the company Levitz had originally
sent out to repair the heating and massage mechanism. Berkline shipped us a
replacement mechanism per their warranty. The repairmen took two checks from us
for over $200, came out to our house twice, pulled the recliner apart, but
after two repair attempts the chair was still completely broken, not only
failing to recline, but leaning so far to the left that my teenage daughter
refers to the chair as the “Leaning Recliner of Pisa.”
About two weeks ago – as
I write this on November 8, 2004 – I got a phone call from Sonia Gupta at
Levitz. She asked me to fax her the original sales receipt. I did. A week later
my mother received a Levitz merchandise certificate for the original purchase
price, made out in my mother’s name.
My mother is now 80 years
old, blind in one eye, and I do most of her shopping for her because she can’t
walk by herself. I hold her power of attorney.
I drove to the Levitz
Furniture store at 19800 Hawthorne Blvd, Torrance, CA 90503 / 310-370-0627. I
found a cloth-covered rocker recliner – no heating or massage function – on
sale, and with the merchandise certificate it would cost us an additional
$315.00 including tax and delivery charges. My mother’s information – including
her phone number and delivery address – were still in Levitz’ store computer. I
told the Levitz salesman to ship the chair to my mother at the same address
already in the Levitz computer.
We
set up a delivery date for next Saturday – if Levitz could get the chair in
time, since it was out of stock in the Levitz warehouse.
“How
will you be paying?” the Levitz salesman asked me.
I
took out the Levitz merchandise certificate. “I’ll use this and put the balance
on my credit card.”
The
salesman looked at the Levitz merchandise certificate with my mom’s name and
address on it – the same name and address in front of him on his computer
screen – the same name and address he had pulled up from the store’s database.
“I
can’t accept this merchandise certificate unless your mother is physically
present to use it,” the salesman told me.
“My
mother is 80 years old and physically limited,” I explained to the salesman. “I
shop for her. I have her power of attorney.”
“Let
me get my manager,” the salesman said.
The
Levitz store manager came out. He did not give me his name.
I
said,“Levitz sent my mother this merchandise certificate to replace a broken
recliner we bought from Levitz six years ago, and which is still under
warranty. My mother is 80 years old, blind in one eye, and I do most of her
shopping for her. As you can see, my mother’s name and address on this Levitz
merchandise certificate is the same as my mother’s name and address in your
computer, and the same name and address for the chair to be delivered to my
mother. You have my mother’s phone number in your computer already so you can
phone her right now and she’ll confirm that she’s authorizing me to use this
merchandise certificate to replace this chair for her.”
The
anonymous Levitz store manager said, “I understand. I’m sorry but you can’t use
this merchandise certificate because your mother isn’t here in the store with
you.”
“You
won’t telephone her?”
“No,”
the anonymous Levitz store manager said.
I
left the store, loudly telling every customer I passed to leave the store
because it was run by thieves who would not honor any of their commitments or
warranties. I admit to using loud profanity. After a six-year run-around,
probably around fifty hours of my time spent attempting to get Levitz to honor
its commitments, hundreds of dollars out of pocket, I felt Levitz had it
coming.
My
mother phoned the Levitz store manager about ten minutes later. He gave his
first name to her as “Felcie.” “Felcie” refused to give my mother his last
name. Thieves like to remain anonymous, you know. After my mother confirmed to
“Felcie” everything I had told him regarding my mother’s partial blindness and
other physical limitations – and that I was authorized to shop her for –
“Felcie” told my mother that if I attempted to enter the store again, he would
call the police and have me escorted out.
I
did not return to Levitz. Instead, I went to a nearby furniture store, bought a
leather rocker recliner (no massage or heat controls) for about $425 including
tax, and drove it to our home in the back of my SUV. It’s now sitting in front
of the big-screen HDTV my sister and I bought my mom for her 80th
birthday.
Today
I phoned Sonia Gupta and explained how “Felcie” had refused to accept the
Levitz Merchandise certificate she had Levitz send us. I gave her full and
complete details of the circumstances. She transferred me to Susan Fairfax at
the Levitz corporate office, and I explained the situation again.
“What
can I do for you to make this right?” Susan Fairfax asked me.
“Well,
if you guys were honest, you’d take back the Levitz merchandise certificate
your Levitz manager refused to take and send me a check for the cost of the
recliner I bought last night from another furniture store, replacing the broken
one that we bought from Levitz and which can’t be repaired.”
“I
can’t do that,” Susan Fairfax explained. “Your warranty is not from Levitz.”
“The
seven-year-repair-or-replacement warranty is on the Levitz sales receipt I
faxed Sonia Gupta, and the merchandise certificate says ‘Levitz’ on it,” I
said. “But I’ll tell you what. “I’ll mail you back the Levitz merchandise
certificate that your manager refused to honor, and you can send my mom a check
for the same amount that she can deposit into her bank, how about that?”
“No,”
said Susan Fairfax of the Levitz Furniture corporate office.
“You’re
a thief. You work for thieves. F**k you,” I said, and hung up.
Don’t
shop at Levitz. They are thieves who prey on disabled seniors like my mom. Tell
everyone you know. Post this warning widely.
Susan
Fairfax’s phone number at the Levitz corporate office is 800-445-2503. Let her
know what you think of her and her company in their dealings with senior
citizens.
You
can also write to Levitz or post a comment on their website.
Levitz
Furniture Corporation
300
Crossways Park Drive
Woodbury,
NY 11797
J.
Neil Schulman
November
8, 2004