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Thursday, August 7, 2014

Frau Farbissina Was Right.....Exhibit A

Map




Lies!

I have become Frau.
I am Frau, 
because this is
 now the 
only word in my 
vocabulary.





You see,
I am a drained consumer.


I have consumed.


I have been guilty of 
a Naive Mind.




And, now 
I have no mind.



I have lost it..




There, I said it plain.











I always believed 
that I am quite thorough,
when it came to
 purchasing products.







Whether I did my
 incessant research on an item,
read every damned label
 in the supermarket,
called the company,
PURCHASED a subscription to
 Consumer Reports,
I have been thorough.




True Fact: 
It takes me forever to food shop, 
in seeking out food that does not have 
an expiration date from 1997 or prior...
Thus, I once found myself in our local A&P at night.

As I read and searched and perused
 and lost track of reality,
I came around the corner
 of the next aisle & 
banged into a pimple-studded
 seventeen-year-old with headphones
 attached to his head.
He took one look at me &
 actually shrieked.

Oh, shit. 
Was my mascara down my face like
Ozzie or something?
Was I that scary at night?

"What are you doing in here???????"
he, no kidding,
 sincerely inquired, 
cause he didn't seem to know.

I paused, 
as I considered my response.
"Um, I think 
I'm grocery shopping, dear.
Does that sound correct?"

"Lady, we CLOSED two hours ago...
You're not supposed to be here.
You can't be here.
I was supposed to make sure
no one was still here. Shit."


I blinked rapidly, 
as I processed his declaration.


I dropped my head,
to scan the overflowing contents
 of my grocery cart.

My loaf of bread protruded
over the side like
an accident victim 
waving for help.










I shopped in a fog of
 best-used-by-dates, 
fat and fiber content,
 Non-GMO vs. Organic information








so deeply that 
I failed to notice
that I hadn't passed
 another shopping human
 for over 120 minutes.


How f'ing sad is that??




This is what my life 
had been reduced to.

I was so over-due,
that the cash registers
were shut down & it took
a manager another 2 hours
to process my sale, 
without the benefit of technology.

He had first insinuated 

that I should abandon
my flowing cart of choices &
call it a night.

When he saw the contorted 

look of horror on my face,
I think he figured utilizing a 
calculator was better than utilizing






the S.W.A.T. Team.








Just to "F" with his mind,


for failing to make

that requisite announcement 

at the close of day

for selecting food & household items,

when he announced 

the amount that I owed,

 I presented him with my 

neatly organized & paper-clipped


pile of coupons!







I had spent three-million seconds

in that place, carefully selecting
unexpired foods & items that were used
 to lure me in, at a ridiculous price. 






I certainly was not

going gently
into that good night...






or the empty parking lot.







But, it matters not.


If 
I


bought it,
I guarantee it sucks.

And, I can prove it.

Exhibit A:

My husband and I 
peacefully co-existed 
with a refrigerator from 1979, 
until the door jumped from 
it's hinges and the duct tape 
couldn't take it no more.



Even the duct tape failed me.








This refrigerator,
 although old, unsexy and
 unkind to my broken back,
owed us nothing &
saw us through. 

When it's demise presented itself,
we were forced to enter this century
and buy a new one.









I was stupidly excited
 about our future 
refrigeration needs! 
I had never had a new one. 
When I bought my apartment, 
it was included...and it served me well.

Then we had old faithful 





for 

10,000 years 



&
NEVER, ever had a repair, 
a problem or a headache.



Granted, I made my
 own ice cubes. 


I did. I admit it.


I had an old, award-winning 
family recipe &
utilized it on a near daily basis. 






I could live with that.

When we selected our
 dearly departed's replacement, 
I thought long and hard.

I knew what was important.

I did my research!

I did my side-by-side comparisons,

of price,

of ice,

of ease and

of peace... 

I must have been 
hitting the crack pipe
 a little hard that week,






cause my research

 was shit.


We journeyed to LOW'S 

(Nope. Not spelled incorrectly.)
to pick out a new baby.

Yes, yes...I was slightly tingly.





It was a first for me &
 I wanted to enjoy it.

Good thing I enjoyed

THE PROCESS.


We asinine-ly 
selected a 
SamShit,



 

doubled doored,
freezer-on-the-bottom-cause-I'm-a-gimp,
with an auto ice maker.

No water dispenser, thank you.


As it turns out, 
I wouldn't have been
 strong enough for


that amenity.


As I perused my new addition, 
I was dreamily picturing  
donating my trusty, 
plastic ice cube trays...
that I would never need again!






Like a real adult, 
I could open the freezer drawer &
fill my cup with
the magical droppings 
that would be provided for me
 by Tokyo.




Uh, huh.



Three weeks into
 my relationship,
I went for some 
magically made ice &
found



NONE. 









WTF?????
Where's my ice?
My stomach did a little flip,
as I just knew we were sailing into shit.






I went to call the 800-number 
for 
SamShit,

that is included on the unit.

If you are in possession
of the Hubble Telescope,
you MIGHT 
be able to pick the number
 up correctly.







I wear reading glasses 





& they were useless.






Using a magnifying glass,
 I assumed I had the
 correct number &
 stupidly placed the call.

I was transferred through

 a bevy of experts.





The final expert 

stayed on the phone
 with me for nearly 
AN HOUR. 

When I explained that


 my brand-new
 SamShit,

was not producing
 my beloved ice cubes,
they stated that they would
 hold my hand &
 walk me through 


The Valley of Death.






The nice lady
 that was doing
 the hand-holding,

had herself 




a little attitude.




As she was 

expertly guiding me,
 from her trusty little
how-to guide-a-moron guidebook,
she was insinuating
 that I was a little...




SLOW.





She had a little 

snide sneer 
in her voice, 
that said I had 
been the problem
 with the 
SamShit,

 not producing as promised.



Their service model 
SOUNDS 
incredibly professional. 

They asked for my first name,
& then thanked me
 for that information.

Ditto on my last name. 


Just as grateful, 
she did sound.






Wow, the Japanese 
are really stepping up
the customer service, 
I unintelligently 
thought to myself.





She took me through 
pages of instruction,
on how to get those 
frozen nuggets of water
to drop down 
into my anxiously
 awaiting ice bin.





She had me push buttons that
N.A.S.A.
ain't never seen.







Some odd configuration
 of a seven-second
hold on one button, 
while you whistle Dixie &
 try to depress the other button...



 at the same time.





When it needed repeating,

she got a little attitudy.


Professionally attitudy, that is.

It was masked with
 a crappy version of
 "I'm here to help you" 
false-facade.


False facade??






Ugh. I'm going to hell.





So, after scolding me
 for being a moron,
the tutorial comes to 
a screeching halt
when she announces that 



SHOULD
 see
 AN
 ICE
 CUBE 
within 







24-hours.





Ok, I admit it. 


I got rude. 


Just a little.


I abbreviated 

my profanity,
so as not to 
personally assault 
this Robo-Rep's ears.

She took 

complete umbrage at my 
utter unwillingness 
to wait the 
required waiting period 




for
one 
single 
ice cube
 to appear. 










"Well, that's how it works,"

 she snidely let me know.

Really???? 

Does it say that in your manual??

24 hours?

Why not a week?


I have time.




Well, that encounter 
finally ended &
at the



 hour mark,
a single nugget 
of frozen bliss
plopped into 
its' waiting bin,
as promised.

They were true

 to their word.
With two to spare...




Yeah, me.

Some months later,

yet still considered
 brand-new...


I was returned
 to the scene of 
the crime.





No ice. 




I don't think
I had enough
 cash on hand


for bail.



Repeated the
 entire scenario,
except this time
 they accused me
of having items
 in my freezer
and blocking the vents
 that appear all around
the pull out bins. 



I was informed 
that these vents 
MUST be kept clear, 
so that the
 'freeze' 
can actually 
circulate throughout.


As this information 

was given to me,
I perused my freezer &
according to the specs of this
freeze-resistant box,
I could easily plan
 to store
two items 






without 
blocking anything venty.












In late May of this year,





it happened again.

This time,

 no bevy of experts.
No hand-holding.
They were 
sending out

 a tech!

Wow.

The tech shows up, after 



WAITING 
A WEEK 

for an appointment.

He needs to see my

 proof of warranty,


which was not
 mentioned or 
reminded to me
 when
the appointment 
was made.

Reluctantly, I called 

SamShit.
Yes, I did.
 I had to.
They informed me that our 
ONE YEAR WARRANTY
had expired 
at the close of April.

How does a 
$2,500
 appliance
come with
 one year of service??

She quickly 

reminded me that
we had paid 
for an extended,
four-year warranty,
 through 
LOW'S ,
and that 
SamShit
 should not have
booked the appointment...
this was now 
LOW'S 

 baby.








So, 

LOW'S
  tries to relay to 
Mr. Repairman
that we are covered,
but his iPad 
ain't getting the message.

After an hour and a half,

Mr. Repairman
 is instructed by
 his Mothership




 to leave, 
as they can't 
rectify the situation.

 I chased (ok, hobbled)

 after his truck,
 begging him to
 come back for cash...




Or golf clubs.












No go.




No way.

And No ice.

But!!

 before he left,
he threw 
a thermometer in
the refrigerator &
 informed me
that it 
was approximately 
  60°  

in there.







Back on the phone 

to LOW'S.

LOW'S re-books
 the appointment,
with the
same service center that
SamShit 
had sent,
A WEEK &
A HALF LATER.

They inform me 

that we have 
$250 worth of 
"Lost Food Coverage"


under our warranty.

Yippee. Great. 
I had to dump 
the entire contents of
the hot box &
write down 
each item & it's price.

Just my organic mustard collection

cost us more than that...









10 days of take-out, salads & 

bowls of cereal later,







two new Mr. Repairmen
show up on Tuesday.

They assure me
 that they
are here 
to save the day!
Real nice guys,
but I had no faith.





They informed me

 that the
back panel of my 
14-month old
SamShit
 was frozen solid...
In the REFRIGERATOR.

Frozen!!!!







That's the word

 I had been 
looking for all along!

In the freezer, unfortunately.


When they realized that
my 


LITHIUM


 required refrigeration,




they placed the order
 for the parts,
on an 
EMERGENCY BASIS.

The parts would be

 over-nighted &
then I could call for 
a new
 appointment!


So, a big box 
shows up
 on Thursday, 
which is over-night

 on other planets. 






I call the service center, 
as directed
(and I use that term reluctantly)
 &
tell them that 

the parts have arrived.



I beg them 
in three languages
to send someone
 right over.








After they finished

 rolling on the floor,
they inform me
 that they can't do any better
than the following 


TUESDAY. 


We're now at the
four-week mark








and they're still using the word
 'service' 
in their name.






Apparently,

 my now 
unchilled Lithium stash 
was of no mind
 to them.


Stupid move.






On Monday, 

another part
 shows up by UPS!! 

Gee, thank God
 they sucketh mightily & 
wouldn't get me in earlier...

I even, stupidly inquired, 
(not because I'm anal retentive, 
but because I've been 
screwed over so many times),
 at the time of the 
placement of the emergency order, 
if all parts would arrive 
at the same time.


"They should."







Uh, Huh. 
My other favorite word.
Like when I ask my husband, 
"Honey, do we have enough gasoline
to get us home?"

"We SHOULD."






So, Tuesday comes &

 they return.
This is what my 
REFRIGERATOR
 looked like:








Thank God we didn't opt for

the automatic water dispenser....


We'd probably get 
flames shooting out.....








The now, over-flowing bin of ice 

is just about the only
thing that's in this 
piece of crap.




We're buying new 

Duct Tape.









Suck it, SamShit.







~SusiTheJ~
Just a humble, ice-cube making kinda gal…