Ticket holder sitting on the sidewalk outside a lit theater marquee with his phone on the pavement

StubHub says the Rick Springfield concert was postponed, but it wasn’t. Can I get a refund?

Craig Field bought tickets to a Rick Springfield concert through StubHub. The show was postponed once and given a new date. StubHub never updated the change in its own system.

On the day of the concert, with no tickets in hand, he called. The representative told him the system still showed the event as postponed. He explained that the show was happening that night. The agent could not release the tickets, and told him that without confirmation from the organizers or the venue, nobody higher up at StubHub could modify the record. The venue knew the concert was on. The promoter knew. Rick Springfield knew. The computer did not, and the computer was the only opinion that counted.

Cartoon of a frustrated traveler holding up his phone at a hotel front desk while a stern clerk stands with folded arms and two companions wait with luggage.

My hotel reservation disappeared. Why won’t Booking.com refund me for my new room?

Stephen Stein had booked a two-bedroom suite at a Homewood Suites in Bonita Springs through Booking.com, and his party of three arrived to find the hotel had no reservation for them. He handed over the confirmation number. It made no difference. A family dinner was 90 minutes away, so while he waited on the phone with Booking.com and got nowhere, the group went and found another hotel themselves. The only rooms available were regular ones, so they took two, which came to $126 more than the suite they had already reserved. A representative promised to cover roughly half the difference. Then came the calls. Over the following days each conversation produced a new reason the payment could not yet be authorized, including a request to prove which currency he had paid in, for a Florida hotel booked on a US credit card.

Cartoon of a woman in pajamas staring in shock at a laptop showing a $179 Furnished Finder charge, her cat asleep beside her on the bed.

My Furnished Finder subscription auto-renewed. Why can’t I get a refund?

Debbie McNulty had listed her vacation home on Furnished Finder for three years and never once received a booking through it. She paid the annual fee anyway. Now that she was renting short term again, the platform was no use to her at all. Her membership was set to auto-renew, and the company sent a reminder email the month before. She missed it, back from a two-week trip and buried under the same avalanche of email everyone else is buried under. Then she woke up to a $179 charge. She contacted the company that same day, asked to cancel, and requested her money back. What came back was a form response: fees are nonrefundable, it is in the terms you agreed to. She did not dispute that she had missed the deadline. Her question was different, and it is one worth sitting with. When a customer cancels on the very day the charge goes through, and has just told you plainly that she will not use a single day of the year she has been billed for, is keeping the money really the right call?

Cartoon of a weary couple driving a car down a straight desert highway lined with cactuses at sunset, as an airplane flies overhead.

American Airlines delayed my flight, so I drove. Why can’t I get a refund?

Michael Damarino and his wife thought they had done everything right. They booked refundable American Airlines tickets through Expedia from Boston to Tucson by way of Phoenix, paying extra for the flexibility. Then a 90-minute delay in Phoenix, blamed on a sick first officer and a baggage weight problem, made them miss their connection. With no later flights available, they did the resourceful thing: they rented a car and drove the final 100 miles so they would not lose their vacation. What they did not realize is that solving the airline’s problem themselves had quietly turned them into a “no-show” for that last leg. In the airline’s system, skipping a flight without canceling it first triggers a clause that can cancel the rest of your itinerary and wipe out the ticket’s value, even when you paid for a refundable fare. American offered only a flight credit and called the ticket nonrefundable. Expedia pointed back to the airline, and the airline pointed to Expedia.

Cartoon of a distressed woman standing at her front door, hands to her face, as a UPS driver stands by his truck with his hands raised in an empty-handed shrug.

Michael Kors and UPS are playing hot potato with my $687 refund — how do I win?

Lina Mahmoud’s $687 Michael Kors order never showed up. UPS investigated, declared the package lost, and confirmed in writing that the refund should come from the shipper, Michael Kors. That should have settled it. Instead, Michael Kors refused, pointing to a proof-of-delivery photo that, she says, does not clearly show her package at all. She was told the claim was denied and that this was the final answer, and when she kept pushing, she says customer service agents began disconnecting her live chats. She was left feeling as though the company now viewed her as a fraud, caught in a game of corporate hot potato: the carrier says the retailer owes the money, the retailer hides behind a questionable image, and the customer is stuck in the middle. It is a stark reminder of how much the burden of proof can fall on the shopper when a package goes missing, and of what recourse you really have when the standard customer-service channels simply stop answering.

Cartoon of an exasperated woman in an apron standing hands-on-hips in her kitchen beside her wide-eyed cat, both staring at a green refrigerator with a taped-on "OUT OF ORDER" sign.

Sears left me without a refrigerator for six months—how do I fix this?

Karen Plaskon’s refrigerator died in February. That should not have been a crisis, because she had paid for a Sears Master Protection Agreement, the whole point of which is to make a failure like this someone else’s problem. Sears approved a replacement in April. Then the real ordeal began. The Frigidaire she ordered was canceled over delivery delays. Sears suggested a GE model in June. That one did not show up either. She spent hours on the phone, shuffled between departments that blamed vague “manufacturing delays,” while retailers like Costco were delivering refrigerators in days. Years earlier, Sears had settled a similar problem by simply cutting her a check. This time, it said that option no longer existed. Six months in, she still had no working refrigerator and no clear answer, just the question of what a protection plan is actually worth when the company that sold it decides to stall.

Cartoon of a distressed man in a Metallica T-shirt staring at his phone, which displays a glowing StubHub invoice for $1,782.

My buyer made a big mistake, so why did StubHub charge me $1,782?

Mark Christensen had sold tickets on StubHub for more than 20 years, so he knew the drill. He listed a pair of two-day Metallica tickets, found a buyer, and transferred them exactly the way StubHub requires. For this tour, a single transfer covered both nights. The buyer used the tickets the first night without a hitch. Then things went sideways. Instead of trying the same tickets at the gate the second night, or asking anyone, the buyer assumed they needed a separate transfer and bought brand-new tickets. And that is when StubHub dropped the hammer, on Christensen. It sided with the buyer, withheld his payout, charged his card for the buyer’s new tickets, and even clipped an unrelated sale, a total of $1,782 for a mistake he did not make. Here is the standard worth holding any marketplace to when its guarantee is supposed to protect sellers too.

Cartoon of a disappointed concertgoer holding a ticket stub while standing in a packed crowd far from a brightly lit stage where performers appear as tiny distant figures.

SeatGeek promised first-row seats. I got section G instead!

Sean Thomas paid SeatGeek $2,744 to see The Weeknd, and the listing made the value clear: premium floor seating in the first five rows, plus a special VIP merchandise bundle. Then the tickets arrived. They were for Section G, a long way back from the stage, and the VIP package did not match the terms SeatGeek’s own rules require. When he complained, the answers kept shifting. First a representative told him “first five rows” actually meant a general zone, not literal rows. When he disproved that, the company redefined the stage itself, suggesting runways now count as part of it, and then uploaded a brand-new seat map after he filed his complaint. His Buyer Guarantee was supposed to protect him against exactly this. What happened when he invoked it, and what SeatGeek finally said about his $2,744, is where the case turns.

Line-art cartoon of an annoyed woman standing on her front steps with a hand to her head, watching a delivery van drive away down her suburban street.

Shein sent my package to my old address after I requested a return. Can I get a refund?

Alyssa Klenotich placed a $153 Shein order, then realized the site had autofilled her old address. She tried to fix it on the Shein website, but it was too late for the company to change anything. So she went to the carrier, SpeedX, and asked it to return the package to the sender so she could get a refund, and SpeedX accepted the request in writing. Then it delivered the package to the old address anyway, and her items were gone. SpeedX kept sending her form responses telling her to talk to the merchant, and she could not see why a loss the carrier caused was suddenly her problem to chase. Here is the principle worth knowing when a shipment goes sideways: you almost always go back to the merchant first, because that is the company you have a contract with and the one that hired the shipper, and the seller, not the carrier, is the party with the authority to issue your refund.