My husband and I have a wonderful relationship with Kay Jewelers. He bought my bridal set and his rings from the branch at the Galleria Mall at Sunset. We adore the staff at the Galleria branch. However, the location is about 25 minutes from our house. So, when Downtown Summerlin, aka Shops at Summerlin, opened up in October 2014 with a Kay Jewelers, my husband and I were excited to have a place closer to the house.
I’ve been to the Kay Jewelers branch at Downtown Summerlin twice now… alone… and both times, I’ve been treated as if I weren’t a patron. The first time, there were four associates, I was wearing T-shirt, jeans, sneakers, a baseball cap. Okay, fine. I looked like a hoodlum. The male associate approached me first with his eyebrow raised and his eyes were clearly judging me already.
“My main diamond is loose, and I need to get it fixed.” I tell him.
“Do you have a warranty?” His tone is one questioning why I brought it to them.
“My husband bought it from Kay Jewelers three years ago with a lifetime warranty.” I answer his question.
He takes my ring, and I follow him around, as I don’t trust anyone who walks away with my expensive jewelry. He gets on the computer and starts typing.
“I’m not seeing the warranty here.” He casually informs me. “Maybe he didn’t get it from here.”
*turn on impatience*
“He bought it from the store manager at the Galleria Mall branch of Kay Jewelers. I can call the branch and get them to verify if I need to.” I retort.
A Filipina associate came out from the back room, and he waves her over, saying, “I can’t seem to locate the warranty.”
She takes one look at me, and my Filipino came out. *translated to English* “My husband bought the bridal set three years ago from Galleria Mall Kay Jewelers. I know he got the lifetime warranty because I had the ring fixed after the wedding last year due to a missing stone. My husband name is …, and here’s the paperwork from the Galleria Mall.”
She takes the information and the paperwork, nudging the guy away from the computer. *translated* “Let me see what I can find. If you’ve had it sent back before, it will be in our computer.”
Guy’s watching over her shoulder and next thing I hear is her saying (and pointing at the screen), “How did you miss it? It’s right here.”
Guy finishes up filling out the form for my ring, and he says in a pointed tone, “We’ll send both rings back, if you’d like. We can check and make sure everything’s good to go with both rings.”
I get defensive at this point. “One ring is enough. I feel naked without my wedding rings. Thank you.”
So, that was the first encounter. I felt mistreated from the start and just from the way the Caucasian associates looked at me and spoke down to me.
Fast forward to Friday, Feb. 20th.
I’m wearing leggings, a nice blouse, makeup, and my hair is in a French braid. In other words, I didn’t look like a hoodlum. *laughs*
There’s two ladies, one with big frizzy hair and one wearing glasses. She’s the one who handled my transaction.
“I’m here to pick up my ring.” I announce when she asks me what she could do for me, and I hand her the yellow receipt.
She pulls the baggy out containing my ring, and I nicely inquire, “May I check for the serial number that’s on the main diamond? I want to see if it’s visible now.” (The first time the Galleria Mall associates showed me the serial number, it was under a prong, and I could only see the first character.)
Her response as I’m signing for the ring was in an annoyed tone. “We wouldn’t switch the stone out. If you don’t trust us, you shouldn’t bring us your ring.”
Instead of taking the ring and finding the serial number under the microscope for me, she points me to the microscope, and I had to find the serial number myself. (unfortunately, it’s still under the prong.)
I said, “Thank you. Have a good day.” AND DIDN’T GET A FAREWELL GREETING IN RETURN.
When I got back to my car, I posted the incident on Facebook (yes. I’m spreading the word.) and sent a text to my husband about it. Turns out, he got more heated over the ordeal than I did, as he called Kay Jewelers corporate office and nagged the store.
In the end, let’s just say that I’ve made my decision to not give the Kay Jewelers at Downtown Summerlin a third chance. I’ve been disrespected, judged, and forced to feel small enough times since I was five years old and fresh from the Philippines. I don’t need to prove myself to non-customer service associates. I’ve told my husband that I’d rather drive 25 to 40 minutes (depending on traffic) to the Galleria Mall branch every six months for our ring inspections than have to deal with the associates at Downtown Summerlin.
I regret not paying attention to the name tags of both associates because I’d like to call them out on their crap treatment. My husband wants to go with me, so I can point them out to him. I know their faces. The question is: What would happen after I point them out? Do I really want to have them fired for their idiotic lapse in judgment?