Ice maker saga continues...
[Note: This is a true story. Names have not been changed to protect anyone.]
I blogged about my horrible ice maker warranty experience a few months back. I'm sad to report that much like our failing economy, the situation has not improved. The glass is still half empty...with no ice.
Here's a rundown of my neverending quest for cubes.
1. Workmen visit my house 14 times within a 12 month period.
2. Can’t fix anything, they only order more and more parts.
3. Finally contact the "LEMON POLICY DEPT”. Wait 3 months. They finally replace my free standing ice maker. In the meantime, I schlepp to Publix 3 times a week for ice.
4. The installer comes... brings the "wrong" machine.
5. Wait another month for the "right" machine.
6. After the "right" machine is installed, my kitchen floods. Water runs into the dining room ruining my baseboards. I begin stress management courses.
7. I learn after the fact that the tech hooked up the tubing to a 15 year old water pump that should have been replaced (during the 14 previous trips), so a previous tech probably sold the unit on Ebay and pocketed the change.
8. After the flood, another tech arrives and tells me to get a plumber to connect the piping to the drainage under the kitchen sink. Then he wonders why the installer tried to hook up the tubing to the old water pump when there is a BUILT IN water pump in the new unit. All of this aggravation (from ruined baseboards to Noah's Ark sailing through my kitchen) could have been easily avoided if the first installer had only opened his eyes to notice the internal water pump.
What is that expression... "The cowboy finally broke the horse in?" Or is it something about beating a dead horse? Eating like a horse? You can lead a horse to water, but still get no ice?
I hired a private plumber at $95 bucks per hour. He arrives on my doorstep, the clouds part and angels begin to sing. The ice maker is finally fixed and properly installed. I had an extra 20 minutes on the clock with Joe the Plumber, so I said, "Hey Joe, could you try and get the faucet in the bathroom sink to stop dripping?" Joe said "No sweat". My eyes were bigger than my plumber's capabilities. A few minutes later I hear “Excuse me Ma'am, but I broke the faucet". I run to Home Depot, huffing and puffing all the way, and buy a replacement faucet. Joe removes the porcelain sink and just when I think things can't possibly get any worse, the entire sink cracks in half.
Such is my life.
I’m ready to move somewhere near a nice river stream so I can bathe and drink from fresh running water the way the Indians and the cast of Dances with Wolves once did.
It is now 2 weeks later, and Joe the Plummer still can’t find the replacement sink to fit in my existing vanity.
Help me folks. I'm sinking fast.