When my parents died in 2004, I took their 7-year-old Kenmore washer and dryer — back when Kenmore meant quality. Should you purchase their appliances around age 70, chances were you’d die before those did. Turns out that washer and dryer lasted 19 years before biting the dust…kicking the bucket…going kaput.
So last September I bought a Whirlpool washer and dryer since they received rave reviews. Fast forward to last week when I put a load of towels in my still-sparkling-clean and shiny dryer, hit the appropriate buttons, tapped START and waited for the magic to begin. Nothing happened.
Hum. Maybe I did something wrong. So I repeated the process. Still nothing. Now don’t get me wrong; all the buttons were lit up, teasing me into thinking my wet towels were about to become extraordinarily dry and fluffy. And to think I fell for it…
Next, I searched for my manuals buried in my manual file cabinet (yes, I actually have one of those). They weren’t hard to find; I’d bought the Whirlpools only 11 months before so they sat front and center. I tried all the trouble shooting tips Whirlpool suggested. I even hit the buttons with more force, like we do with elevator or crosswalk buttons when we’re impatient. But I was sorry-out-of-luck.
And here I’d just tossed the letter from Whirlpool encouraging me to buy the extended warranty plan. I don’t believe in those. I figure if I’m paying in good faith for a brand-spanking-new dryer, I shouldn’t have to replace it before I do my furnace filter.
So I went online and researched what to do when your dryer won’t start but all the bells and whistles appear to work. But because most of the suggestions made as much sense to me as Cantonese, I called Whirlpool.
A couple days later, someone came out, tested the dryer, declared it broken and ordered a new thing-a-ma-jig to replace the defective one. In the meantime, I’m drying my clothing the old fashioned way — in the wind on a contraption for those of us with broken dryers.
Then, as if THAT weren’t enough, the top on my BMW convertible wouldn’t open anymore. Granted, the car is 14-years-old, so I can’t complain. But has that ever stopped me? Anyway, one day it worked and the next it went on strike, refusing to open at the most inopportune time; I was heading to Tahoe days later and wanted to go topless, so to speak.
So I brought it to my mechanic, Damon, who discovered it needed a $2000 hydraulic something-or-other. Thankfully, he reported it was a very slow leak and wouldn’t recommend buying new hydraulics. Instead, he decided to simply refill the leaked fluid then suggested that I, and I quote, “Rock that car.” Being that I’m not lingo-savvy, I asked Damon what that meant. “Enjoy your car with the top down.” Oh! Gotcha.
Then again, as if THAT weren’t enough, the picture on my upstairs 5-year-old Samsung TV went black. I hear what’s happening, I just can’t see it. Sorta inconvenient if you ask me. But since they say bad stuff happens in threes, I’m thinking my luck is about to change. I’m not, however, being too complacent; I reluctantly gave in and bought my first extended warranty plan.
I do, after all, have that almost new Whirlpool washer to worry about. It sits near my still-going-strong, never-needs-service, 24-year-old garage refrigerator. And you’ll never guess the brand…A Whirlpool!