I’m writing what I hope is the last chapter of my horror story. I call it “The Dishwasher Curse.”
With full participation of Murphy’s Law, the story starts when my only-8-year-old dishwasher died. Being what seemed prudent at the time, I drove to Oceanside to a wholesale appliance store to find a new one.
This has worked for me with refrigerators, so I boldly went for something less expensive. (I dislike the term “cheap.”)
I spent an hour staring at dozens of dishwashers and finally picked one that seemed sufficient. I paid and arranged delivery for the next week.
On schedule, as the new one was installed, (tense music builds here) they determined it had a leak and was unusable. They took away my old one and left the defective one.
I had to call the next day and arrange what I thought would be a simple replacement. (Cynical music here). Oh, gee.
The outlet didn’t have any others like the one I wanted, so I would need to drive to Oceanside in 5 p.m. traffic for a third time (credit card confusion) and select another.
After a bit of thought, I realized I had no more time for that and canceled my order altogether. It took three calls to the outlet on three different days, over the course of a month, before someone actually did the return paperwork.
Each time I had, of course, been assured it was all taken care of.
I took a hiatus and did all dishes by hand again, trying to forget all this even happened. Finally, my daughter insisted I make another purchase.
This time I went straight to the home improvement store and picked out one that was definitely not wholesale.
They installed it, ran it and left. I loaded it, tried to run it and got nothing. (Crazy, monster-behind-you music here) Somewhere along the line, the door latch had failed. Picture me weeping into my dishtowel.
I finally figured out who to call and they graciously offered to replace it — in a week to 10 days. (Relieved but suspicious music here.) Will the new one arrive? Will it work? Will a poltergeist leap out of it?
Stay tuned.
Jean Gillette is a freelance writer with very wrinkled fingertips. Contact her at [email protected].
