Appliance Hell

I’m in Hell. Not the fire and brimstone kind of hell. I’m in what’s known as “Appliance Hell.” It’s just to the left of Car Repair Perdition and right around the corner from Pest Control Purgatory. Appliance Hell is when your household appliances ALL break down at the same time, like some sort of mechanical mutiny.

No one likes to spend money on appliance repair. It’s downright painful and about as much fun as getting a colonoscopy minus the conscious sedation. But when the expected lifespan of the average household appliance is between 14 to 17 years, you learn to expect breakdowns.

I’ve always had good luck with the Kenmore brand, so when my old washer and dryer finally died last spring, I immediately replaced them with two brand new Kenmores… which have since broken down. To say I’m surprised is an understatement. I couldn’t be more surprised if I’d woken up with my lady business covered in fire ants. I wasn’t expecting them to last forever, but I’d hoped for more than 11 months!

Luckily both are still under warranty. Thus begins my exciting repair adventure with Sears. What I’ve learned on my Sears repair odyssey is that every new challenge presents an opportunity for personal growth. So I thought I’d write a thank you letter to Sears for affording me this wonderful opportunity to grow as a human being.

Dear Sears,

Right out of the gate I have to thank you for my new Kenmore washer and dryer. I purchased them last May, and they’ve lasted almost 11 full months. Wow, color me impressed! Attached you’ll find a picture of the broken agitator. It was torn clean off by the sheer bulk of my 95-pound son’s extra-small cotton boxers. I know what you’re thinking, and yes, he IS very popular with the girls.

Let me start by saying a special thank you for the interminable wait when I called to schedule my repair. You know me so well, Sears. You know how much I enjoy listening to your static-infused ads and muzak played on an endless loop until I want to vomit from sheer joy! Guantanamo could learn a lot from your techniques, Sears. You’ve got hidden talents, don’t hide your light under a bushel, baby.

And I love how you’ve completely automated your phone system. No more people! You were smart to cut out the middleman, Sears, because who doesn’t like communicating with a computer that can’t understand a word they’re saying?

Your system made me repeat my request so many times I could actually feel my chest constricting as my blood pressure began to climb. As my vision grew spotty, and my arrhythmia kicked in, I waited for the inevitable heart attack to take me. It would have been a welcome relief from your muzak, but I wasn’t going to escape that easily. Instead, I laid down on the cool kitchen floor and waited for my heart to slow while the dog licked the sweat from my brow as your muzak played on.

And when your sexy little automated system playfully inquired if I wanted to “file a claim” I was secretly thrilled! Here I thought I was only calling to schedule a repair appointment, but look at you, busting out the threatening legalese. You go, Sears! Because who wants a simple repair when they can file a claim? It sounded about as much fun as eating a big bowl of insulation and slamming my head in the car door, repeatedly.

Oh, and I have to applaud you on your brilliance using that four-hour arrival window for my repair. I love nothing more than waiting around from 8 a.m. to noon, because as we both know I have nothing better to do than wait for you. And when that four-hour window suddenly and inexplicably jumped to six, well I was over the moon! I couldn’t have been happier if you’d offered me a steaming turd sandwich.

Now we get to the amazing part. And I mean eye-popping, jaw-droppingly amazing. When your repair person arrived, she seemed genuinely surprised to learn that my washer was broken. I suppose you forgot to mention it to her. Apparently, she assumed she was there for high tea.

I must say she was quite startled when asked if she had the parts necessary to fix the washer. She let me know right up front that she wasn’t that kind of girl. She wouldn’t put out on the first date; we’d need to take it slow, get to know one another. She slyly set up another appointment to see me in two weeks. (That saucy little minx!) Another service call sounded just peachy to me as I’d hoped to drag this repair out as long as possible. I guess Gramps will just have to wait for that biopsy. Hey, he’s 86, the cancer’s not going anywhere.

Can you guess what happened next, Sears? As if on cue my Kenmore dryer broke two days after your service visit. When I opened the dryer door the handle ripped completely off in my hand. I guess that gym membership is paying off because apparently, I’ve developed some sort of supermom hulk-strength. I’ve included a picture of the door. That twine is acting as my temporary door handle. Yep, we be ghetto now.

I suppose I should take a little of the blame for the busted door. I must admit I’d been actively using the door to open and close the dryer. Silly me! I’d foolishly assumed the door handle could withstand the rigors of both opening and closing. My bad, Sears, my bad.

Please remember, you’re not to blame, Sears. Oh no! You make products that go the distance, (as long as that distance isn’t more than 11 months).

And the best part is that we get to schedule a third repair day (after I file my claim) for the dryer. Oh, sure I tried to save time by alerting you to the problem. I’d absurdly thought your repair person could bring a new door handle when she returned to fix the washer. But that would have been much too expedient and far too easy. Plus it would have meant less time together, and frankly, you don’t want that, do you Sears?

Besides, I’m not an official Sears repair “professional,” how would I know which part was needed? Sure, it looked like a door handle to the untrained eye — but how could I be certain? It’s not like I’m some brain surgeon. No, I’d better leave that diagnosis to your crack team.

I look forward, with giddy anticipation, to spending many, many more hours on hold with your automated phone system and with your repair pros, who may or may not know why they’re at my home.

Full confession: when you sold me these Kenmores last May, I never dreamed I’d be challenged in such new and exciting ways. I’ve got to hand it to you, Sears, you’ve tested my limits, both physically and emotionally. And you’ve pushed my sanity to the bleeding edge. I couldn’t feel any more special if you’d bound and gagged me and left me for dead in the trunk of an old Buick down by the river.

So thank you, Sears, for the 11 solid months of service! It seems a more than fair trade for the thousands of dollars we forked over to purchase those Kenmores from you.

And by the way — you had me at extended warranty.

Love,

Claim № 19826–52275

(xoxo)