Fair warning: this is a rant. Think of it as payback -- retribution, the very kind of thing that a decent Christian is supposed to eschew. The problem is -- as happens so often in these circumstances -- I'm not feeling particularly Christian.
In short, I'm mad at Sears. I know that inducts me into a rather large fraternity. Almost any time I mention Sears I am met with eye-rolls and groans. We aren't talking high reputation here. If my experience is representative, it is derision honestly and thoroughly earned.
As you may know, we recently moved. Two months ago. In the process we purchased new appliances...from Sears. In contrast to previous experiences, we actually found -- and liked -- a salesperson. He was friendly, winsome, and helpful. He went -- and I don't say this lightly -- above and beyond. So did we, I might add. We bought several appliances. Nice ones. Plus the extended service contract.
On the appointed delivery day, all seemed to go well. Again, the delivery personnel were efficient and affable. But when I found a floor covered in water from the refrigerator a scant two hours post-delivery, I called the super, handy-dandy, elite service number and, after talking with nine different people -- literally. Nine -- who each solicited from me the exact same information, I learned that they would be happy to send someone out in two weeks. "It's a brand new refrigerator that hasn't been here two hours," I replied. "And it is flooding my house." Two weeks was the best I could get. "Did I want to go ahead and schedule that service call?" I was asked. No, I responded, and suggested that I would prefer my service contract back. I called a plumber who came that afternoon.
Meanwhile, the stove. I don't know anything about propane -- our new fuel of record out here in the country -- so I don't know how to assess "normal." But in our two months of use we have wearied of the black soot that cakes on the bottom of the pots sitting over the fire, and subsequently smears on clothes, rags, rubber dishwashing gloves, etc. It's gross. It's persistent. But as I say, who knows? Maybe that's propane's normal. Before resigning ourselves to the nuisance, however, I once again called our local repair service. I was concerned that I might not live long enough to see a service call from Sears. I called yesterday. A technician was here at 9:00 a.m. this morning. From him I learned that the stove was incorrectly installed. There is a conversion kit required for propane -- the very one I was promised actually came with the stove -- and a second adjustment that is supposed to me made. Neither action had been accomplished. "I can't believe you have been living with this," he marveled. "Besides, it's not really safe. See those yellow flames? They are producing carbon monoxide. That, and the flames are way too large. That's dangerous, too. Something could catch fire." Yes, I muttered, and cover the world with soot.
So now I have ordered, for $165, the conversion kit that I supposedly already bought, will enjoy a second service call, neither of which should have been necessary, and Sears won't respond to my invitations for conversation.
So, as I duly promised them in one of my queries, I am ranting out loud, cautioning anyone and everyone who might have an interest to save yourself the headache -- and maybe even your life -- and shop somewhere else. Anywhere but Sears. Please, God, not Sears. Your heart will thank you. Your blood pressure will thank you. Your pots and pans will thank you. And quite possibly your insurance company and the fire marshal will thank you, as well.
So there, I've said it. My rant is officially over. Go back to whatever you were doing. My stove still doesn't work right -- and won't until the parts come in -- but it's nice to get it off my chest. And maybe now I can get back to being a reasonably decent Christian.
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