Sears, Redux

Lori tells me I have to post an update.  The Sears saga has come to some resolution, and I agree that it's only fair that the rest of the story be told. 

For starters, I did, indeed, receive a follow-up email from Sears after my second rather spicy provision of feedback.  It was, I have to say, a rather patronizing response that suggested if I had wanted a stove equipped a certain way I should have mentioned that at the time of purchase.  Never mind that I had done precisely that, and had included that information in my initial communications.  Nevertheless, the message continued...
"If you had an issue where an installation occurred from one of our licensed installers, and they connected the appliance to your propane gas line without converting it and telling you, then that is a separate issue. If such a case has occurred, please contact [number deleted], and we will escalate your case to our Installation Solutions, and they will discuss further options."

"Escalate."  I love that. So, I took my "separate issue" into escalation, dialed the number, and after two or three tries was connected to a helpful man in Florida in the unenviable position of working in the central office of "I'm mad and want to complain."  He agreed that my experiences were unacceptable, and that while his options were limited he anticipated that the local store manager would not want a customer "out there" feeling the way I do, and that surely he would want to "participate" in some resolution. 

At this point I anticipated that my helpful Floridian was going to suggest I call the store.  Cutting him off I indicated that I had tried that, but that the Sears phone jail system made it practically impossible to ever talk to anyone.  He mentioned that he had a "direct" number.  After being on hold for several minutes he came back on the line to tell me that the store manager didn't seem to be available, but that an assistant manager was on the line who would help me.  After introducing us to each other, my first helper left the conversation in our capable hands.  Much to my surprise, the assistant manager listened, empathized, asked questions about how much money I was now spending on what should have been covered in the first place, clattered around on a calculator, and offered me $500 to cover the extra expenses.  After I happily accepted his offer, he took my bank card information and relayed that he would call me back when the refund transaction was completed.

Hours later I got a call from our original salesperson, apologizing for the mess and reassuring me that he had looked up our order and confirmed that what we had ordered was correct; the problems had started after it left his and our involvement.  "Oh," he continued, "and I understand that the assistant manager offered you $500 to cover the extra costs."  I confirmed the offer.  "Well, the assistant manager talked it over with the manager and..."

It was at exactly this moment when I thought I was really going to have to eat crow.  "They are going to up the ante," I thought to myself.

"...and the most we are able to offer is $450."

"Really," I thought to myself; "you are going to jerk me, an already mad and mouthy customer, around for a lousy $50 bucks?  Really?  I can't believe it."

But that's where I left it.  I took the $450 and ran, thankful that I had come out of the aggravation with anything but more aggravation.  It will likely cover most if not all the expenses, and I wasn't, after all, out for blood.

Simply what I had supposedly purchased IN THE FIRST PLACE. 

As for you, Mr. Cheapskate store manager, take your spouse out to dinner with my $50 and enjoy every miserly bite.