On an evening walk through my neighbourhood last summer, I came across a church with wooden boxes in its yard, each box full of growing vegetables. What can this be? An urban garden?! I turned to Google and discovered the possibility of gardening- despite living in an apartment building and owning no land- through the existence of community gardens strewn throughout the city. I became determined to grow my own food.
Smart phones and mobile data plans are like peanut butter and jelly; they go together. Anyone who’s anyone with a smart phone has a data plan. Data plans border on necessity and many can’t imagine living without it, even at an expense of a minimum $50/month for the service. When it comes to cell phone data, I may be in the minority; I have a smartphone, but don’t have a data plan.
The first thing I do each morning is reach for Daniel’s cell phone, which we use as an alarm, and check Instagram. I don’t even bother putting on my glasses; I squint at the tiny screen to view all the new photographs posted since I last checked (which was probably no more than eight hours ago before bedtime). I’ve been obsessed with the platform since discovering it a couple months ago. I have never been huge social media user, but I LOVE Instagram; love so much, it is the first thing I want to see in the morning.
A couple weeks ago, Lenovo advertised their Y410p and Z510 model laptops in a “doorbuster” sale for $279 and $255. They regularly retail for $1389 and $1099, respectively. Many of my friends jumped on the bandwagon, ordering several units for themselves and their families. I didn’t bother. The deal seemed too good to be true. Long story short, orders were cancelled by Lenovo which set off the online firestorm #lenovogate. I wasn’t surprised. In fact, I’ve been burned by Lenovo before.
Lenovo advertised the sale of two mice for nearly 90% off back in 2011. Each mouse, which regularly retail for around $80-90, were available for $6 and $20. I quickly made my order online and promptly received a confirmation email indicating a successful transaction had occurred. A day later, I received another email indicating that there was a price error for both mice; Lenovo cancelled the order.
In 2012, Lenovo advertised their high end laptop ThinkPad X220, retailing around $1500, for $350. That time, orders went through, cards were charged and laptops were shipped – only to have Lenovo intercept the packages and reroute them all back. To add insult to injury, it took a couple weeks for consumers to get their refund.
Lenovo has offered $100 off the future purchase of a laptop until August 3, 2014 as a gesture of goodwill for cancelling the Y410p and Z510 orders but with a history of pricing bumbles, the effort is too little too late. Rather than appeasing potential customers, Lenovo is effectively allowing the brand to be associated with pricing errors and disappointment. It’s understandable for companies not to honour pricing errors and consumers technically aren’t owed anything if money has not changed hands. Lenovo may not be required to fulfill the orders but from the looks of it, they’ll lose out on several future orders.
At what point should companies honour their price errors?