If you’ve bought an appliance you’ve no doubt experienced the disconnect of having a salesman stress the reliability and durability of a particular brand name only to turn around and ask you to buy a manufacturer’s warranty. One minute the washing machine can easily handle sixteen pairs of jeans; the next you need to be careful because there’s a lot of moving parts that may break down over time. As you stand at the cash register the salesman pushing the warranty wants you to think about what could possibly go wrong with your new, expensive purchase. It’s a chance to experience buyer’s regret before actually leaving the store.
Recently, my wife and I bit the bullet on an extended service plan for our washer and dryer. What suckered me in was the salesman telling us it included annual preventive maintenance. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I pictured an Indy pit crew tightening bolts and putting high octane gasoline in the washer’s engine. Instead every May a kid from Sears comes out to clean our lint trap and tell us that we need to buy more expensive fabric softener.
I am pleased to announce we took advantage of our extended warranty this past month. In the midst of a rinse cycle, the washer just shut down. After shifting into lockdown mode, the washer simply flashed a red digital L2 on the display. Water pooled in the bottom of the washer, and we had to salvage our clothes from the watery mess. The repair hotline politely notified us that an L2 could be repaired from 1 - 5 pm on Thursday. After careful examination, the repairman informed us the washer was not draining properly. We knew this already, but because we had the warranty we didn’t have to pay for this information. I felt sorry for the poor saps that had to pay someone to tell them their washers were not draining.
After dispensing with the technical jargon, the repairman vacuumed out the drain line and produced baby socks. Lots of baby socks. Not as skilled as adult socks at escaping from the dryer, these baby socks took their shot in the washer. Like Andy in The Shawshank Redemption, they thought they would tunnel their way to freedom. With the laundry cycle back in rhythm and Ryan’s sock collection rightfully restored, a sense of normalcy returned to the home. This quickly turned to panic as I realized my son was able to break the washer without even trying. What kind of warranty we will need when he starts using the computer?
