Dear Sears

What the frack, guys?  The last time I had a problem with an appliance, I gave you a call.  The customer service people on the phone were polite and helpful.  The service person arrived in a timely fashion, and fixed the problem.

This time, however, you completely fucked up.  When I called, the “customer service” representative was robotic rather than polite, and couldn’t be bothered to find a technician who could fix my washing machine in a timely manner.  I should have picked up on this clue.  I should have started calling all the other appliance repair people in the area right then and there.  But no.  I made an appointment for a service call a week and a half in the future.

When the day of the service appointment arrived, I drove home at lunch time to meet the technician (who was supposed to arrive between 1pm and 5pm).  Because I’m apparently a little bit psychic, I decided to check the voice mail messages (I generally only do that a couple of times a week).  Oh gosh!  The “customer service” people had called at 11:30am to tell me the technician wasn’t going to make it that day.  WTF?

So I called them back to find out when I could get my washing machine fixed.  This “customer service” representative was even more robotic than the initial one, and couldn’t have possibly been less interested in helping me.  He wanted to reschedule the appointment for yet another week in the future.  Uh… no.  I requested an appointment for the following day.  Robot Man simply kept repeating, “I can reschedule this appointment for next week.”  I reiterated that I had already been without a washing machine for 10 days, could not wait another week to get it repaired, and really needed to get it fixed immediately.  Instead of transferring me to his supervisor (which I understand is what you are supposed to do with irate customers — and believe me, I was IRATE), Robot Man HUNG UP ON ME.  Hung up on me.  Yes.  He did.

Once the thoughts of stuffing Robot Man into the washing machine passed, I started calling repair people.  On the fourth call, I found someone who will actually come out early on Saturday morning.  If he actually does get my washing machine working on Saturday, he will totally be my go-to guy for appliance repair!  And if he doesn’t, I’ll have to go shopping for a washer.  Bah.

But rest assured, I will never call Sears again for any reason.  I probably won’t even shop there anymore, either… because, hey, it’s not like it’s convenient or anything to get there.

Psych!

I’ve been watching Psych with the Offspring the past few weeks.  I had watched maybe a half dozen episodes of the first season when it first aired, and then stopped watching it… probably for some silly reason like I needed to go to sleep early.  But I had a coupon from Amazon for a Video On Demand offering, so I bought the first season of Psych.  We’ve been watching it on the internet-capable Blu-Ray player Santa brought us for Christmas.

So here’s what I don’t get: why the hell did I stop watching Psych in the first place?  It’s freaking hilarious!  Shawn and Gus crack me up, and at least half of the time so does Lassiter.  We’re done with season one, on to season two.  We’re going to watch another three or four episodes tomorrow night, so leave us alone.

k.d. lang

There are some people who sing with such purity and emotion that their voices reach right into my heart and squeeze.  k.d. lang is one of them.  Her performance at the opening ceremony of the Winter Olympics is testament to her astounding skill.  When I read the words to Hallelujah, I thought, “Meh, ok, might be a nice song… but might not.”  But while listening to k.d.’s rendition, I had tears streaming down my face.  That’s not a nice song, that’s a shatter your heart into a million little pieces with the longing of it all kind of song.  She did the same darn thing to me the first time I heard her singing Crying, too.

I think I’m going to have to dig out all my k.d. lang CDs today.

The Weekend’s Publishing Wankfest

It would seem that Amazon delisted all the books from Macmillan over the weekend.  I’m not going to pretend I have any knowledge of publishing or bookselling, so I’m going to refer you to John Scalzi’s analysis of the situation.

I have a Kindle.  I’m rather fond of my Kindle.  But if I can’t get the book I want to read for my Kindle, I’m not above buying those things made from tree mulch.  At Barnes & Noble or Borders or the local independent bookstore.  Or even the newly-renovated public library up the street!  I go to Amazon for convenience.  If they take away my convenient, it’s their loss when I jump in my car and visit their competitors.

Also?  Why I’m not getting an iPad: