How to buy three chairs.
On March 5th I got a note that one of the computer labs in the College was minus three chairs. They were borrowed or mangled or misplaced or had succumbed to any one of a hundred other misfortunes that can afflict the modern office chair.
As the person ultimately responsible for the computer labs, it fell to me to order their replacements.
Now I should tell you: I had never ordered a chair before. Oh, I could order computers blindfolded, and network switches on tiptoe, and even drafting software while downing a dagwood, but never a chair. So each and every one of the following bureaucratic bungles are either beyond the realm of mortal control, or are entirely my fault.
My three-chair order eventually required:
- Two requisition submissions;
- One requisition denial for incorrect account numbers;
- One requisition denial for falling under the low value purchase limit;
- One requisition resubmission after the total of the three exceeded the low value limit;
- Three minutes of on-site visit by...
- Two office furniture company representatives to determine the correct chair model (I described them on the phone as "bendy, black, and with elbow platforms");
- One discovery that this precise chair model was on back-order; and
- One last-minute purchase order cancellation because the purchase order had already been issued by a different department a week earlier.
The chairs arrived today, May 4th, just a hair under two months after the initial request. Now I just have to assemble them.
How long could that take?
Your post is funny, but what's even funnier is the Friendly Green Giant furniture set. So awesome. Rusty the chicken still scares me.
(Whoops. Geof, I think you've commingled the CBC's Friendly Giant with the niblet-picking Jolly Green Giant.) I fondly remember the episodes in which the raccoons showed up for jam sessions. "Recorder Solo!"