dailydiatribes

The Maytag Repairman is doing a happy dance in Hell because yet another one of my appliances has expired.  At the end of last summer, we had to replace not one, but two air conditioning units to the sum of college tuition for a year at the Ivy League University of your choice.  The vacuum cleaner quickly followed, and then the dishwasher, and just last week, we got a new water heater.

Tuesday, as I piddled around in the kitchen, talking to Gina, my washing machine began making a loud and ominous grinding sound.  It sounded like a load of rocks was going through the spin cycle, not a good sign, since I only launder rocks on Fridays.  Tears welled in my eyes, for I knew a death rattle when I heard one. 

I hurried to the laundry room, and beheld my faithful washing machine, shuddering and groaning, unable to complete one final cleansing of the blonde goddess's peepee sheets (which, FYI, it turns out she has a bladder infection!).  I opened the machine and stared down, hoping for a light bulb illumination into the problem.  Like I'm so mechanically gifted that I would be able to fix anything!  Still, it doesn't take a brain surgeon to figure out that the spin cycle was no longer spinning.

Tim happened to arrive home a few minutes later and he made the final diagnosis:  the motor had burned out.  I wrung my hands in dismay and said "Oh dear, whatever shall we do?"  Or maybe I said "G**D****t, how in the hell am I gonna get the laundry done?"  Or some combination of the two.

So yesterday found us in Lowe's looking for a new washing machine.  I know lots of people take this seriously and research for weeks and compare prices and try to get the best deal.  Me, I just wanted a freakin' washing machine, preferably one that would wash, dry, fold and iron.

I got there first, and was immediately drawn to a candy apple red machine with more buttons than the space shuttle.  Bargain priced at $1400, I knew it was the machine for me.  When Tim got there, he told me I had to base my decision on more than just color.  "But it's so shiny," I said in my best whiny 'i want what i want' sort of tone.  But he insisted we look around and try to make a more informed consumer decision.

The salesman came over and immediately recommended a Whirlpool, which he did not have in stock.  "But we have a truck coming in Friday and I'm pretty sure there'll be a couple on it," he assured us.  I stared at him in disbelief; my dirty laundry would be spilling out into the next county by Friday and he was only 'pretty sure' that the machine might be on the truck.  Nope, next model please.

So he led us over the Samsungs and gave a detailed description of what you get for $1200.  "Now this one," he said "has a built in water heater and it can heat water up to 160 degrees."  He smiled proudly as he said this, expecting us to beam along with him as we handed over our credit card.  

"Well, why do I need the water that hot?" I asked.  

His smile faltered and he hemmed and hawed for a second and then said "well, um, if someone in the family gets sick, you can sterilize their laundry."  Well, damn, I'm all in, here's the American Express!!  

"What else does it do?" I asked him.  

"See this button that says 'silver'?  You push this and it activates a current and millions of silver ions are shaved off a silver bar that's installed in the washer.  Silver has incredible cleaning properties!"  I stared at him; why do I need silver ions in my laundry?  People have been washing clothing for thousands of years without silver ions and we've all done just fine.  For the price, the sucker ought to be solid sterling.  Next machine please!

He sensed he wasn't getting too far with us, so he wandered off to help another customer.  Tim and I walked up and down the rows and rows of shiny washing machines and I silently pleaded with the appliance gods to help me make my decision.  Tim was trying to talk me into going to Sears and to do some comparison shopping, when a heavenly chorus sounded a beam of golden light appeared over one of the machines.

There it was, on the first row, previously overlooked by me, the biggest freakin' washing machine on the planet.  A top loading, Whirlpool and it was under $1000!  I hurried over and got the salesman away from the woman looking at the cheapo, $300 machines.  He was only too happy to rush off with me, knowing a sure thing when he saw it.  "How do you feel about this one?" I asked him.

His eyes gleamed, and he ran his hand appreciatively over the lid, like a jockey sizing up a thoroughbred.  "Well, we just got these babies in," he said, "and it's the biggest machine in the store.  You can wash twenty pairs of jeans in this sucker!"

"I could wash my youngest child in this sucker," I told him.  "How does it clean?"

"I've only sold a few, but I haven't had any complaints," he said.  "And it's huge....4.5 cubic feet."

I looked at Tim, he looked at me, and we said "we'll take it."  Because after all, bigger is better, especially when it comes to appliances.  And I'm telling you right now, I could stuff my whole couch in there and still have room for a couple of pairs of thong underwear.  

We went to the register to pay, and I insisted we buy the extended warranty.  I told Tim the way our luck has been running lately, it was worth the extra hundred bucks to have peace of mind.  It's being delivered today and I can't wait to see how well it washes the blonde goddess!