As you all know, I preach shopping locally. That said, I must admit
that I have, on occasion, shopped at places like Lowe's. Because they
were kind enough to give me a charge card, when I don't have cash in
hand to purchase an important item, I make the trip to Columbus to buy
the thing on time. This practice has come back to haunt me as you
will read below. I'm still working on the letter I'm actually
sending to the Whirlpool people - I'll let you know what, if anything
comes of it.....
This is a true
story. The names have NOT been changed to protect anybody.
In the fall of 2006, I retired my tired old Frigidaire kitchen
range for a brand new, high tech Whirlpool. I traveled to the nearest
Lowe's (
Columbus
,
Mississippi
) and made the purchase in my vehicle, but I might as well have been
walking on air. I moved up to a stainless steel model that sported a
shiny porcelain cook-top, a self-cleaning oven, a gazillion bells and as
many whistles. At long last,
I was the proud owner of my dream range.
The nightmare began when I
brought my dream range into the kitchen.
On the day I purchased the
stove, I made three trips to and from
Columbus
. The first one was to buy the range. The second one was to return the
range because its LED display wouldn’t. The third trip was to return
the second range whose LED display sparked and sizzled the minute it was
plugged in. I finally, after180 miles of irritation, found a range that
worked. Whew.
Since that fateful day,
I’ve had nothing but trouble with my appliance. Twice it has locked my
dinner in the oven and refused to allow me to remove it until the oven
was cold. (I guess it is confused about the difference between cooking
and cleaning.) Once, when it
food-napped my Easter ham, we ended up dining at Wendy’s.
I called the repairman on Monday and he was able to open the door
after some twiddling with the now infamous LED display.
Frequently the stove gets excited and starts a beeping war. The
only way to make the machine be quiet is to climb behind the slide-in
(no small feat for a rather portly 57-year-old grandmother) and unplug
the dang thing.
Last week, I determined
that it was time to clean the oven. I set the controls and left it to
the task. Several hours later, I noticed that there were no lights on my
handy-dandy LED display. Upon closer inspection, I realized that there
were no oven controls either. Nor could I open the oven door. My dream
appliance had expired. While the cook-top works fine, I just have a “thing”
about kitchen ranges - I want an oven in mine.
Fortunately, for my family,
when I retired my old Frigidaire, I didn’t sell it at a yard sale.
Instead, I found it sitting quietly in the storage room waiting for the
day I think it expected all along. (The Whirlpool will be difficult to
sell because of that whole oven door deal, so I suppose I’ll just have
to pay to have it hauled away.)
I am writing you this
letter so that you’ll know that there is one woman in
Aberdeen
,
Mississippi
who will never again trust a Whirlpool appliance most especially if it
comes from Lowe's - where one salesman told me back on purchase day,
“Yeah. We’ve had that trouble before with this model.” Thanks, for
the warning buddy. I should have taken him more seriously.
The purchase of a major
appliance is an important exercise in trust. I spent a good bit of
change on my dream machine and I expected it to be a good trade.
Instead, through your marketing of an inadequate appliance, I’ve
suffered not only a substantial financial loss, but also endured more
than my share of frustration.
I’d
like a new range please. One that works. One that can be depended upon.
In other words, one that is NOT a Whirlpool. And I want it delivered.
