I love my washing machine. It is able to wash a king-sized comforter which, for the most part, means it can easily keep up with our family of five's needs. Unfortunately, it does not love me back. I have this nasty tendency to break all things related to technology, and the washing machine falls under this category.
Less than a year ago, my lovely washing machine decided to go on strike. The buttons and knobs just up and refused to work properly. Thankfully, we purchased an extended warranty when we bought the washer, so the uber-expensive circuit board was replaced free of charge and everything was once again as it should be.
A month or two ago, those newly fixed buttons and knobs started acting up once more. I would press the button for the mixed wash cycle and suddenly the washing machine would start up the basket clean feature. I would press the start button and the volume of the end-of-cycle beep would increase. I was annoyed, but held off on scheduling another repair call because we were in the midst of the end of the school year chaos. A few weeks ago, I happened to be in the basement next to the washer and dryer while they were running, and I realized that there was an odd metallic clinking sound coming from the washer. I can only assume it thought that causing me further problems would make me arrange for a repairman that much faster. Sadly, that was true. I made the appointment.
Our first scheduled appointment was a no-call, no-show. Being stood up by a repair guy was an interesting novelty that I did not care to repeat. Unlike the dating scene, it was nothing personal, so I rescheduled for another day with a minimum of miffedness.
Call-me-Bob appeared for our second scheduled appointment. There was no hello, howdy, or nice to meet you. The greeting was simply, "Call me Bob." He vaguely reminded me of an adjunct professor at college where the entire class called him Call-me-Jim for a semester. Call-me-Bob stayed for an hour or so while that darn washing machine refused to let its buttons misbehave. Even the clinking sound did not appear for a while. I swear the washer was trying to make a liar out of me. Eventually, the clinking sound did appear and Call-me-Bob was able to find a loose terminal that was clinking onto the heating element. It was some grounding wire, or whatever he called it, so it coming loose could have caused the buttons and knobs to be cranky for me. I was just grateful it was a quick and easy fix.
That quick and easy fix lasted a whole whopping twenty-four hours. I started singing, "Clang, clang, clang went the trolley..." from Meet Me in St. Louis every time I put a load of clothes into my clinking front-loader.
Our third scheduled repair visit was set for today between the hours of noon and five o'clock in the evening. This meant that I had to pick Pig Jr. up from school early so that we would be home during that time. Naturally, this also meant that the repairman did not show up until almost six o'clock.
This repair guy came in asking about what was wrong with our dryer. You mean besides absolutely nothing? I directed him to the washing machine and told him its story. I even told him what panels Call-me-Bob had taken off to get to the obnoxiously clanking terminal. Of course he did not believe the housewife. Why take off the lower front panel that needed to be removed to access the terminal when you can take off the top of the washing machine and not be able to reach a darn thing? He was either a slow learner or used to people giving him erroneous information.
Eventually, he discovered the same loose terminal swinging around on the underneath of the washing machine's interior. He also discovered that tightening it would not take care of the problem because some sort of metal part was too loose. He claims he fixed the problem. On his way out the door, he informed me that the easiest way to prevent the terminal from coming loose again would be to not put clothes in the washer. I have the sneaky suspicion he isn't used to people actually listening to what he has to say. Well, it's either that or he really hopes I stop using the washing machine so nobody has to come and fix that stinking terminal again.
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