Like the basement apartment, the stove is one of those ongoing sagas that I’ve done a great job of alluding to, but never actually telling you the full story. It’s one of those customer service nightmares, a nightmare that bothered me far more than it bothered the husband.
To refresh, about a month ago, we were falling all over ourselves to recommend scratch and dent if you’re looking for a brand new appliance. We probably still are. But I don’t think it will be such a carefree recommendation anymore. Sure, they delivered everything, slid it all into place, and it looked great, especially once everything was hooked up. And it was hot. It wasn’t like we were using the stove much. No wonder it took us 2 weeks before we discovered the problem.
The oven wouldn’t start.
It’s a gas oven and there was, simply put, no gas running to the oven part of the stove. We’re pretty good at DIY and diagnosing issues, so we pretty quickly determined it wasn’t something we could handle. We called up the place we bought it from because, for the first month, they were still responsible for it. Our 14 month warranty would kick in after that. They sent out a technician and that’s where it got frustrating.
He came, stood in my kitchen and looked at the stove. He didn’t touch it. Didn’t try to turn it on. He listened to our own diagnosis of the problem — something the Husband had already gone through on the phone — nodded and said, “Oh, yes. That must be the problem.” He left, promising the order a part.
Two weeks pass and we haven’t heard a thing. Finally, I call on Friday.
“Oh, yes. The part isn’t coming in. We’ll replace the stove for you on Monday.”
On Monday, when I don’t get a phone call with specifics, I call.
“Oh, yes. We’ll bring it tomorrow. Call at noon, and I’ll tell you when.”
I call at noon.
I leave work early. As I’m getting off the subway, I get a message. Guess who isn’t coming anymore? I’m livid. I call.
“Tomorrow, tomorrow. At 5:30.”
Finally, at 6:00, we meet the delivery guy. In comes the new stove, all wrapped in cardboard and plastic. Out goes the old stove, with its thin layer of dust giving away its lack of use. We pop the new one into place, turn on the oven, watch the pilot light turn orange and the temperature start to tick up.