WtheactualF*ck

Fun Fact: Thoughts of Hilo lower my blood pressure.

Now, let's fight.

VRBO recently introduced me to an angry new hobby: repeatedly explaining the same problem to different customer service representatives.

I booked a property for my parents. They arrived to find broken glass in the front door held together with painter's tape, dirty towels, used soap in the shower, a filthy oven, and a rusted grill. Apparently this vacation rental includes a scavenger hunt for basic cleanliness.

I didn't know it was so bad until the end because my parents were trying to work things out with the host. 

Pro tip: Don't. 

If you arrive at a rental and it's not as advertised, call the platform immediately and start a case. Learn from our mistakes. 

The host eventually agreed to a 25% refund but wanted to mail me a personal check because he "didn't know how" to issue a refund through the platform.

Ahhh, weaponized incompetence. Don't you just love that?

His property already taught me that appearances can be deceiving. I saw no reason to run the same experiment with a person check. Come on, man.

Anyway, then came the VRBO customer service experience.

Seven phone calls.

SEVEN.

Each lasting 15-30 minutes. Each representative putting me on hold to "review the notes." Each representative somehow unable to locate whatever groundbreaking work the previous representative had supposedly completed.

At various points I was told the host was being contacted, deadlines had been established, and payment requests had been sent. Based on the results, I can only assume these messages were delivered by carrier pigeons with a poor sense of direction.

After three weeks and hours of my life I'll never get back, I have recovered about $600.

The money wasn't the problem. 

The process was. 

If everything goes perfectly, VRBO is probably fine. But if something goes wrong, be prepared to invest enough time to earn an honorary degree in Customer Service Follow-Up Studies.