I can’t figure out if I’m in appliance heaven or appliance hell.
Maybe it’s appliance limbo. Yeah, that seems more like it. I’m Catholic.
The washing machine I bought? The one with the stacking dryer, the one that barely fit in the house or the laundry room, the one that required that the doors come off the hinges again?
Well, the good news is, after I bought the machines on Nov. 26th and they were delivered the 28th, and after I waited until Dec. 10th for the stacking kit to come in so they could install that on the 11th: it washed the clothes.
The bad news is: it didn’t spin or drain. I’ve done four loads of laundry in a month (or a week – or actually two days), and three of them had to be wrung out before they could go in the dryer. I may as well have been down by the river, beating them on a rock.
So the guy came to try to fix it. Since the machine is used, he cleaned out the (disgusting) filter, drained the standing water (all over my basement floor, using every towel I had including fingertip towels bearing the smiling face of the Creepster Bunny) and replaced the computer board. He sat on the floor playing Angry Birds on his phone while he waited through the rinse & spin cycle to see if his repairs had worked.
So now there is a pile of nasty dirty smelly towels in my basement shower, and there are three guys down there taking the dryer down off the washer, taking out the (three-week) old washer and putting in the new one. They were supposed to call when they were on their way, so I hopped in the shower thinking they’d probably call while I was in there. I was right. I had just wet down my hair when there was a knock at the door. And then a phone call.
I let them in fully clothed, but I hadn’t combed my wet hair. I made sure they got the machines in and out without wrecking my walls or my floor (again). I left them alone for three minutes and they broke the light fixture in the ceiling. I’ve just been informed that the valve for the water line is leaking, shooting a stream of H2O all over my laundry room. “But it’s okay. It’s working.”
Oh, okay then. Good, because I’m out of towels.
This is after two guys who work for the builder were here earlier this morning replacing my non-draining dishwasher and installing the water line for my refrigerator so I could have ice and such. The one guy refused my offer of coffee when they arrived, saying he wasn’t man enough for it, and then complained that he broke a nail while installing the machine. But he possessed the prerequisite visible underwear and holey jeans. And he cut a live wire without flinching, despite the bright flash, the loud pop and the quick whiff of ozone.
So my house smells like a bunch of sweaty unwashed men instead of the cookies I’m supposed to be baking. Which isn’t to say the oven doesn’t work. It does. I’m just afraid that the second I’m up to my elbows in butter and flour, I’ll hear water trickling somewhere it isn’t supposed to trickle.
Fortunately, I’m not paying for any of this work. The dishwasher and fridge line were part of the builder’s responsibility, and the washer and dryer don’t cost me anything for 60 days. After that, I pay for parts.
I’m hoping I can get some laundry done between now and then.