Melissa Charles author

If you haven’t read part one, you can find it here

So. We had a new vehicle, finally, and were on our way to purchase a new washer and dryer at a local store.

I’d reviewed everything online, knew what set we wanted, and we strode in, ready to drop a chunk o’change on a new set.

Side note: we’re a large family. We often choose to purchase second hand things, but have discovered, through much trial and a lot of error, that for us, it ends up costing us more in the long run, because they end up needing repair or replacement sooner than later. The Sam Vimes’s ‘Boots’ Theory of Socio-economic Unfairness, written by the late Sir Terry Prachett proves true in this case. When it comes to major appliances, it’s cheaper to buy new whenever we can.

Anyway. Moving on.

There we stood, the husband and I, surveying the appliances on display.

And, since Mercury was in retrograde, and since Murphy’s Law is always in full effect in our house, you can guess what happened.

The set I’d chosen online, that showed as being in stock, wasn’t.

In fact, there wasn’t even anything close to what we wanted or needed.

I bring your attention back to the fact that we have a large family. Both in number of people who reside here full time, and, frankly, size. I have a husband who is almost six feet tall, and a son who is over six feet. We need a large, or better still, an EXTRA LARGE capacity washing machine.

The machines available could fit a pair of our son’s jeans. And maybe a t-shirt or two. Or socks for his size 16 feet. But probably not all at once.

So, that was a wasted trip into town (and with the price of gas, I’m never happy about wasted trips.)

We pivoted to our only other option: buying online from the manufacturer. Okay, we reasoned, at least we’ll get exactly what we want, without compromising. Yeah, it’ll take longer than buying locally, but we’ll live, even if it DOES mean more time at the laundromat.

(sidenote: most of the gifs I found were of people dancing in the laundromat. This has never been my experience. Any time I’ve been there, it’s mostly folks staring blankly into space, waiting to be set free from their humid, noisy confinement.)

I ordered. Was given a date for delivery. Good. Things were happening.

Until the next day, when I noticed a red flag on the manufacturer site. Order not processed. Turns out, when you spend a (for us) lot of money on a site you’ve never ordered from, your bank will flag that as a fraud issue.

A few phone calls later, the order was processed, and our delivery date held.

Be it an abundance of caution or a holdover from stalking QueryTracker, I checked the manufacturer’s website for updates, since there was no delivery tracking available.

The delivery date changed multiple times, even showing up as delivered. I was confused. Turned out, there are several hubs that the machines were transported to, and each hub would be marked as delivered, with no differentiation between the hub and our home. Okay, I can roll with that.

But then our delivery date came, with zero communication. I’d been told I’d get a call the day before, but nada.

I called in. With zero notice or communication, my delivery was cancelled. For added fun, it was the Thursday heading into a long weekend in our province. I was told it would be Tuesday.

I had grave doubts.

Tuesday came. No call. No communication. I called in again. Now it would be Thursday.

Let me be clear: the website still had our old delivery date on it. At no time did the manufacturer communicate any delays or new dates. Absolute silence from them. The last customer rep was actually snarky and condescending, because apparently, I was unreasonable for being frustrated about delays and lack of communication.

My husband overhearing this conversation was worried. Normally when dealing with difficult situations and customer service, I use what’s referred to as my Morticia voice. Sounds sweet, calm, steady, and I even have a small smile on my face, but my words are assertive and firm. CSR folks are on the front line for a lot of frustration, and I never take that out on them. I don’t yell or use foul language, but my kids have assured me that listening to me become sweeter as the call goes on, usually in circles, creeps them right the heck out.

This go ’round, Morticia had left the building. Still polite, still civil, but icy. Not a smile to be seen.

Which is as close to alarms going off as it gets.

By the time that call was over, husband had a coffee waiting and took the kids out of the house so I could have twenty minutes of blessed quiet to decompress.

And he brought back chocolate, just in case.

Marriage is like Scouting. ‘Be Prepared’ is always a wise motto.

The good news is, the washer and dryer were finally delivered, a week late, and they work perfectly.

All’s well that ends well, as the saying goes, but personally, I’m exhausted by the whole thing.

PS: Mercury is now out of the microwave, so here’s hoping for a calm, peaceful few weeks as we head to the end of summer.