I have been living in Moreno Valley, California since January of 2005. In that time I have discovered that it is the worst place in which I have ever made my domicile. It is strategically placed on the map of the USA with regards the bodily function for which it is best suited. Believe me, I feel it every single day.
I have come to the conclusion that there are not 3 businesses in this city that can be trusted to deliver a quality product and/or service on time. Over the eight years that I have lived here I have learned to take my business to other cities for my made-to-order needs. Moreno Valley has absolutely no concept of quality and punctuality. It doesn't matter whether it is printing, household appliance installation services or service quotes, prescription drug delivery, barbers, you name it and I can find you a buffoon within a city block. Not a soul who delivers these things has any concept of how to deal with customer expectations. I take that back. There is ONE soul with whom I have been satisfied over time. ONE. How's that for a definition of a great place to live?
Several years ago I was living in Rome, Italy. It was in the sixties, some fifteen years after the War. Fortunately, I was a student then and I did not have to put too many demands on the business community outside of the sheer basics of life. I found out that it was a good thing that such was the case. Rome was not, it turned out, the most customer oriented city on the face of the earth. The Romans take care of tourists like hardly any other city I have ever been to. But to long term residents and to each other, they are not that great. That being said, Rome is like heaven compared to Moreno Valley.
Today, I put the last nail into another coffin in Moreno Valley. We went to get a picture framed at an enterprise that had been quite satisfactory for the few times that we have patronized them in the last two or three years. Then they showed the dark side of their environment. First, they did not submit an order [to their factory] that we communicated clearly was a required artifact for an important presentation we were preparing.
We then negotiated a delivery date and sealed the deal. When I went to claim the finished product on the appointed date, it was nowhere to be found. I left with their assurances that they would have it on Tuesday [in three days]. It turned out that they clean forgot that it had not been outsourced yet. I found that out when I received a telephone call [a miracle in Moreno Valley] saying that they had forgotten to outsource the job. They did not say that they had not yet found the work order with the receipt. I told them at the time that we no longer needed the finished product but that we could find other uses for it down the line. When I asked for the pickup date I was told that it would be ready for pick-up on Saturday. Today is Saturday. I went, and of course, it was not there. The reason, "We only found the work order yesterday. It should be here sometime tomorrow."
"Good," I replied. "When you get it, sell it for two hundred dollars and send me a check for fifty-five dollars and we'll be even."
"Just give me your address and I'll bring it to you as soon as it gets here," says she. "I'll refund you half of what you paid."
"Forget it, keep it. I don't need it any more anyway."
I left her in her bamboozled state, a blank-eyed and bewildered buffoon.
No, this is not an isolated incident.
I don't need the fifty-five. It's just another tuition payment to the school of hard knocks. It's the only school of any kind that is a sure bet to teach you about life in Moreno Valley. In eight years I have found one good service provider: my computer guy. I must confess that I am wondering how long it will take before he implodes. That's why I have a back-up machine.
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