“The washing machine won’t turn on.” said Andromache. Climbing, with gasps, the last steps from the basement laundry room, I discovered a slipping push-pull, turn on, turn off knob which defied my mechanical skills.
I called Jorge who came and removed it. He explained that the teeth were worn and it would not engage; I needed to call GE for a new part.
Thanks to Google and a super human effort at scanning, I located a telephone number and found myself talking to Clarissa in Tennessee.
“What is the model number?” Clarissa asked matter of fact.
“The machine is in the basement. Can you wait till I get it?” I pleaded and went down once again to search for the model number which Clarissa insisted was “on the lid or on the left.” It was not.
I came back up to offer the part number on the offending dial, but Clarissa would not be put off. She needed the “Model Number” and I needed to find it or else when I did call back, I would be put through to (I’m sure she hoped) another customer service person.
This time I leaned over the machine and found an orange paper label that had what could be a serial number.
I called back and spoke to a new young lady who confirmed that I had indeed found the serial number. She had found the part which was $10 and something and with shipping, would be $18 and something.
I responded with, “Moma mia que dice! That is too much for a less than a buck plastic part made in Outer Mongolia.” However, I knew I had to pay and gave her my Visa number but asked to speak to “the vice president in charge of getting his nose punched.” She gave me the consumer complaint department where I spoke to Julia, who had a supple voice attuned to taking the brunt of outraged customers.
I took a new approach. “I am the publisher of a newspaper and I want to print a piece about how this little plastic knob costs over $18.” Julia started the “in defense of GE speech” but I would not entertain it. I see where GE made $14.2 billion last year and paid no US taxes.
She sent the part free.
