I’m inconsolable.

“I don’t want your apologies or even appointments. I want DRY CLOTHES!” I bark.

We’re going on three weeks, and I’ve complained through the web, called in to a “special 800 number,” which wasn’t staffed, and I’m about to return the machine, altogether.

Someone needs to give this behemoth of a company this message:

Warranties came about because customers wouldn’t buy increasingly complicated machinery and technology without the promise that they would be repaired when they broke or failed to perform their intended functions.

Warranties and the service that makes them meaningful are no

I did everything right. In fact, I didn’t even press to get an earlier appointment.

The repair truck pulled up, and the driver just sat there for about ten minutes before coming to the door. When he arrived, he mumbled so badly that I had to keep prompting him to repeat himself.

He asked what was wrong with the machine, as if he hadn’t been briefed.

“It won’t dry clothes.”

Looking at the machine he said “We’ve had a lot of problems with this model. Maybe you can get them to give you a new one.”

“It is new,” I pointed out.

“Well, I suppose we can order the parts,” he murmured, not at all bolstering my confidence in his abilities.

“You mean you don’t have the parts on the truck?” I asked, wondering at that point why they even bothered having trucks, except for the fact that customers might expect to see them.

“No, I’ll have to order the parts for you,” he replied weakly, and with that, he opened a battered laptop, something out of Han Solo’s junk cruiser, and began to tap in an order.

He printed a receipt and told me he was setting an appointment for the following Thursday, but he didn’t expect the parts would even be in at that point. If they hadn’t arrived, he’d set yet another appointment.

Fast forwarding, I got an automated call on Tuesday telling me to phone in about my scheduled appointment. I am told that my parts won’t arrive in time for Thursday’s slot because “They haven’t even been shipped, yet.”

The following morning, the parts arrive in a box at my doorstep. I’m confused. Why were they sent to me and not to the service person?

I call in again, and the auto-voice tells me we’re still on for Thursday’s meet.

So, on Thursday, I baby sit the dryer from 1-5, but no one shows up.

I call in and they tell me, “We tried calling both of your numbers at 7:40 in the morning.”

What that has to do with getting my clothes dried, I don’t know.

My phone logs show no such contacts were made, and I suspect the driver went to the beach, instead, and I say so.

We reschedule for the next Tuesday, from 1-5. Again, the driver is a no-show.

What’s up with this? Where is your man?

I call and express my concern, mentioning I am President of Customersatisfaction.com and best-selling author of numerous books, including MONITORING, MEASURING & MANAGING CUSTOMER SERVICE.

A poorly trained, robotic CSR says, “I’m sorry that happened. Would you like to set another appointment?”

I’m inconsolable.

“I don’t want your apologies or even appointments. I want DRY CLOTHES!” I bark.

We’re going on three weeks, and I’ve complained through the web, called in to a “special 800 number,” which wasn’t staffed, and I’m about to return the machine, altogether.

Someone needs to give this behemoth of a company this message:

Warranties came about because customers wouldn’t buy increasingly complicated machinery and technology without the promise that they would be repaired when they broke or failed to perform their intended functions.

Warranties and the service that makes them meaningful are not

“Well, I suppose we can order the parts,” he murmured, not at all bolstering my confidence in his abilities.

“You mean you don’t have the parts on the truck?” I asked, wondering at that point why they even bothered having trucks, except for the fact that customers might expect to see them.

“No, I’ll have to order the parts for you,” he replied weakly, and with that, he opened a battered laptop, something out of Han Solo’s junk cruiser, and began to tap in an order.

He printed a receipt and told me he was setting an appointment for the following Thursday, but he didn’t expect the parts would even be in at that point. If they hadn’t arrived, he’d set yet another appointment.

Fast forwarding, I got an automated call on Tuesday telling me to phone in about my scheduled appointment. I am told that my parts won’t arrive in time for Thursday’s slot because “They haven’t even been shipped, yet.”

The following morning, the parts arrive in a box at my doorstep. I’m confused. Why were they sent to me and not to the service person?

I call in again, and the auto-voice tells me we’re still on for Thursday’s meet.

So, on Thursday, I baby sit the dryer from 1-5, but no one shows up.

I call in and they tell me, “We tried calling both of your numbers at 7:40 in the morning.”

What that has to do with getting my clothes dried, I don’t know.

My phone logs show no such contacts were made, and I suspect the driver went to the beach, instead, and I say so.

We reschedule for the next Tuesday, from 1-5. Again, the driver is a no-show.

What’s up with this? Where is your man?

I call and express my concern, mentioning I am President of Customersatisfaction.com and best-selling author of numerous books, including MONITORING, MEASURING & MANAGING CUSTOMER SERVICE.

A poorly trained, robotic CSR says, “I’m sorry that happened. Would you like to set another appointment?”

I’m inconsolable.

“I don’t want your apologies or even appointments. I want DRY CLOTHES!” I bark.

We’re going on three weeks, and I’ve complained through the web, called in to a “special 800 number,” which wasn’t staffed, and I’m about to return the machine, altogether.

Someone needs to give this behemoth of a company this message:

Warranties came about because customers wouldn’t buy increasingly complicated machinery and technology without the promise that they would be repaired when they broke or failed to perform their intended functions.

Warranties and the service that makes them meaningful are no

Fast forwarding, I got an automated call on Tuesday telling me to phone in about my scheduled appointment. I am told that my parts won’t arrive in time for Thursday’s slot because “They haven’t even been shipped, yet.”

The following morning, the parts arrive in a box at my doorstep. I’m confused. Why were they sent to me and not to the service person?

I call in again, and the auto-voice tells me we’re still on for Thursday’s meet.

So, on Thursday, I baby sit the dryer from 1-5, but no one shows up.

I call in and they tell me, “We tried calling both of your numbers at 7:40 in the morning.”

What that has to do with getting my clothes dried, I don’t know.

My phone logs show no such contacts were made, and I suspect the driver went to the beach, instead, and I say so.

We reschedule for the next Tuesday, from 1-5. Again, the driver is a no-show.

What’s up with this? Where is your man?

I call and express my concern, mentioning I am President of Customersatisfaction.com and best-selling author of numerous books, including MONITORING, MEASURING & MANAGING CUSTOMER SERVICE.

A poorly trained, robotic CSR says, “I’m sorry that happened. Would you like to set another appointment?”

I’m inconsolable.

“I don’t want your apologies or even appointments. I want DRY CLOTHES!” I bark.

We’re going on three weeks, and I’ve complained through the web, called in to a “special 800 number,” which wasn’t staffed, and I’m about to return the machine, altogether.

Someone needs to give this behemoth of a company this message:

Warranties came about because customers wouldn’t buy increasingly complicated machinery and technology without the promise that they would be repaired when they broke or failed to perform their intended functions.

Warranties and the service that makes them meaningful are no

What that has to do with getting my clothes dried, I don’t know.

My phone logs show no such contacts were made, and I suspect the driver went to the beach, instead, and I say so.

We reschedule for the next Tuesday, from 1-5. Again, the driver is a no-show.

What’s up with this? Where is your man?

I call and express my concern, mentioning I am President of Customersatisfaction.com and best-selling author of numerous books, including MONITORING, MEASURING & MANAGING CUSTOMER SERVICE.

A poorly trained, robotic CSR says, “I’m sorry that happened. Would you like to set another appointment?”

I’m inconsolable.

“I don’t want your apologies or even appointments. I want DRY CLOTHES!” I bark.

We’re going on three weeks, and I’ve complained through the web, called in to a “special 800 number,” which wasn’t staffed, and I’m about to return the machine, altogether.

Someone needs to give this behemoth of a company this message:

Warranties came about because customers wouldn’t buy increasingly complicated machinery and technology without the promise that they would be repaired when they broke or failed to perform their intended functions.

Warranties and the service that makes them meaningful are no

I’m inconsolable.

“I don’t want your apologies or even appointments. I want DRY CLOTHES!” I bark.

We’re going on three weeks, and I’ve complained through the web, called in to a “special 800 number,” which wasn’t staffed, and I’m about to return the machine, altogether.

Someone needs to give this behemoth of a company this message:

Warranties came about because customers wouldn’t buy increasingly complicated machinery and technology without the promise that they would be repaired when they broke or failed to perform their intended functions.

Warranties and the service that makes them meaningful are not add-ons or gifts that are “given” to customers.

They are PART OF THE PRODUCT ITSELF, bargained and paid for, expected and essential satisfactions.

When you fail to back your products with timely and capable service, you have breached your contract. More important, when you do it callously, repeatedly, and without remorse, you’re acting in bad faith, and you’re setting yourself up for class-action lawsuits.

This is exactly where we, as consumers, need to be MORE litigious.

It may to be the only thing that will get the attention of manufacturers and their errant service units.