Our dishwasher, in its sorry life, has ruined some of our favorite glasses, flooded the kitchen, and grown progressively more reluctant to clean anything dirtier than a cereal bowl. One day, we realized we were washing all the dishes before loading them. It was time, sadly, for Mr. Dishwasher to go to that great appliance warehouse in the sky.
The chosen new model has cool features, and lots of stainless steel. We’re stoked. We’re given paperwork and told that a separate company, Idiots With Wrenches, will be installing our dishwasher.
On Feb. 2, we hang up the balloons and throw our “Welcome Dishwasher Junior” party. Sadly, the festivities were premature, as our new addition didn’t get to come home to us that day. Sure, Genius Delivery Dude arrived on time, and removed the old Mr. D. However, Genius Delivery Dude then dropped Junior right down the back steps.
Yes. Our new machine was dead before it ever got to wash it’s first cake-on lasagna pan. It never knew the taste of fresh Cascade.
“Not to worry!” we’re assured. “We’ll just order a new one and have it here in no time. Should be about two weeks! In the mean time, I’m just going to leave this giant hole in your cabinets so your cats can crawl behind the cabinets, into the wall and chew on the insulation! Won’t that be great!”
Uh, no, Dude. Put the old one back. (And he did exactly that. Just put it back in the slot.)
Feb. 25, I call Idiots With Wrenches and talk to Clueless Phone Bot. She tells me that it’s been ordered, but is not in, and that someone will call me. Nope, don’t know how long. I demand that someone come out and hook my old dishwasher back into the water/electrical. We make the appointment for March 4.
It’s Genius Delivery Dude again! And he tells me that he threw the screws into my old dishwasher, and now they’re in the motor. It’ll never work again. And, he tells me that they may have lost my replacement Dishwasher Junior.
Every day I (or **PucksRaven, my roomie and co-sponsor in the adoption of Dishwasher Junior) talk to Clueless Phone Bot. Every day we leave message for Moron Manager who is “Handling Our Case”.
Me: “Hi Moron Manager. It’s Obsidian again. It’s Wednesday at 2 PM. I’m calling to find out the status of my dishwasher. Please call me at 555-1234, or my cell 555-5678. Please DO NOT call 555-9999 again. That is NOT a valid number for us.” . . .etc.
Today: “Hi, Clueless Phone Bot. This is Obsidian again.”
CPB: “Oh, hi! Moron’s not in the office right now.”
Me: “I’m getting really upset he’s not returning my calls. You keep saying someone will get back to me, and no one does.”
CPB: “It says here that he called you back yesterday at 4 PM at 555-9999, and the number was disconnected.”
Me: “THAT’S NOT MY PHONE NUMBER! I told YOU yesterday, AND several times before that it wasn’t my phone number.”
CPB: “555-9999 is the number we have for you. I can make a note of your new number and have someone call you back today.”
It’s the same conversation every day. Am I in the twilight zone?
AHHHGGGGRRRHH! You stupid pieces of shit! Give me my goddamn dishwasher! You destroyed my new one, you destroyed my old one, and I’m tired of washing dishes by hand! We have 10 people coming for dinner next weekend! It’s been almost two months.
I swear, I am going to hunt these people down and fill their office with used cat litter.