Oh, to be in hot water


This is a story of what happens where something simple goes horribly, horribly wrong. Two weeks ago yesterday, I noticed while washing the dinner dishes that the water wasn't getting hot. Turned out that the 7-year old, 40-gallon, white, upright hot water heater had a leak. The equivalent of a rod going through an engine block -- certain death requiring immediate replacement.


I went though my paperwork and found the 2002 receipt from the home improvement place I had purchased it and went there to purchase a new one and have it installed. From my distant memory, I didn't recall any issues involving the store or the subcontractor working for the store who installed it. This is called repeat business, but it's also business in the post-Katrina, economic downturned world.


First I couldn't find someone to wait on me since they seemed understaffed. Once I did, I had to wait for the right person from the right department to wait on me. Once he was available, I had to go through the "new" way of doing things. First, the subcontractor had to come to my house, for a $35 fee, and inspect the old heater to make sure I was getting the right one. I had my receipt from 7 years ago and it said on there plainly what I needed. Granted, the model numbers may have changed, but the requirements remained the same. Nope, had to do it their way. Still, I purchased what I knew I needed and paid the fee for the inspection.


Thursday they called and said they would arrive at the house the next day to inspect the hot water heater. The guy who came out opened the heater door and was attacked by wasps. One stung him on his forehead. Apparently there was no need to inspect any further and would contact the store with an estimate.


Now you're probably wondering why I haven't mentioned a herd of wasps living in my heater until now. I learned off of the canister of wasp spray that they are domicile in the early morning and evening hours, which was when I opened the door. And I never looked up at the door jamb where two combs were positioned. I focused my attention on the bottom of the heater the entire time. So, over the weekend, I used the heater house as wasp killer target practice and removed the nests with the end of a broom handle (covered in foil, of course, since I'd like to use the broom again without wasp kill on it).


Monday I received a call from the store. I was quoted $511 for the installment, which rivaled the price of the heater. When I asked on why the price was so high, I was told that connections needed to be replaced. I just spent the last five days boiling water on the stove for bathing and washing dishes. I wasn't going to haggle. I had to go to the store and sign a contract and pay for the installation.


When I arrived, the information had not been entered into the system. As the sales girl entered the information, she noticed that the estimate from the subcontractor had not included pricing for the materials, which would have made the price higher. The guy who had called me (we'll call him "Tom") was new and stood next to her. Tom said that that was the price he was told to tell me and that was the price I was going to pay. She fussed about how things would not be able to override and someone was going to be mad. Tom insisted that the store had to stand by what was quoted. The zone manager came in along with another manager and Tom continued his battle cry. Zone manager took over for the sales girl and, with Tom at his side, began to manipulate the data.


The associate manager said the subcontractor was too high to begin with and was their only installer and she tried to explain to me how the sub had screwed up. I was calm and quiet enough to be heard. "All I know was what I was told," I said simply. I wasn't going to budge. I figured I might get out of this easier than I put in or I'd tell them to cancel everything, which was the last thing I wanted to do. The associate manager and the sales girl went away. The zone manager was able to code the materials differently, overrode this, changed that, and soon my total for the install was $470. Again, I wasn't going to quibble. I paid for it after signing the contract.


Tuesday the subcontractor called only to find out if I had any contact with the store. On Wednesday, one week after all this nonsense began, I was told by the store that the installation would not take place -- they had fired the only subcontractor who would do the job. Apparently the subcontractor wanted to add additional money on top of what they didn't put in the first estimate. It sounded like a fight ensued because the subcontractor's "quote" for installation of the hot water heater would be $2500. No way under God's green earth would I allow that to happen. That's why the store fired them. Their only alternative was to refund the install and the inspection fee, but said I could still have the heater. This was too much and I told them I wanted a refund on everything. I'd go without hot water until I could figure out how to fix this.


I called my old contractor to get a recommendation of a plumber. When he learned about my plight, he said he'd stop by that day and check on it himself. He checked it out, went to another home improvement store, bought the hot water heater, and had it installed before I came home from work that night. It was a relief and I was grateful. He charged me for the heater and installation, but nothing over that. I called him that night to thank him. He said that going without hot water was an emergency and he would have gotten to it that night if he had had a full schedule that day.


It's been a week since the install and I still notice how nice it is to turn the faucet and receive hot water pouring into a sink of dirty dishes or filling up a wash basin. I don't know how the old folk used to boil water on a wood-burning stove every day of their lives. I don't know how our ancestors went to the well with buckets or the stream with animal skins and carry water back to their dwellings. I'm just glad that I don't have to do without anymore.

RIP: Saturn Mike

"We're having a great day here at Saturn!" is how the receptionist always answered the phone at the dealership since I first began calling them in 1997. It didn't change today with my last phone call. I had hoped to have the oil changed at the dealership this Saturday one last time, but it was not meant to be. They close their doors for good on Wednesday. I thought there would be more time. Newspaper reports stated that the Harvey store would remain open for a few months. Like with everything else these days, you can't depend on anything staying in place without decaying before your eyes.

I called Mike last week when I heard reports about Saturn Armageddon: vehicles no longer in production, parts no longer made, all dealerships shutting down simultaneously, and my car would only hold value in Confederate money. Mike tried to reassure me that Saturn vehicles would be produced until the end of 2009 with an option going into 2010. And he discussed the various scenarios about how the national brand of Saturn could still be saved. The list of possible buyers, possible countries of assembly, and possible conglomerates looking into continuing the brand sounded like the end of football season and the die-hard Saints fans looking at wildcard angles in the hopes of even getting to the playoffs.

Despite his jovial mood (jokingly asked me if I wanted to buy a car!), his talk was somber and he didn't know how long they would be operational. At that point, they were going from month to month not knowing if they would still be going for another month. He wanted to stay with Saturn for as long as he could. Today's call to Mike felt like a condolence over a death.

I remember buying my first new car, a Saturn 1997 SL1, from Mike. It was my first car buying experience. Dad was at my side, but he remained silent as I asked questions and took the test drive. Once the price was decided, the options discussed, and I had forked over my trade-in and money, I asked Dad how he felt and he said he trusted Mike. Mike was former Army. An older gentleman. Knew everything there was to know about every part of the car. What impressed me the most was that he gave me advise on purchasing cars made by competitors in case I didn't want to buy a Saturn. This could have been a mind trick, but I doubt it. He had a complacency that put me at ease. Afterwards, I felt like going into a fetal position. It was a big purchase. I wasn't sure if I had made the right decision. The paperwork hadn't been completed yet and Mike told me to take the car home for the weekend and to call if I had any questions. Driving home, I glanced at the interior and felt as though I had climbed a mountain.

When I went back to officially buy the car, two things happened. First, the other sales people gathered around me and gave the cheer. Second, I had a picture taken with the car and a calendar made with the picture. Never had that type of treatment before. Probably won't happen again.

Mike sent postcards for every holiday and helped me through two more new Saturn car experiences. It was never a question that he would sell me my next car. It was as automatic as setting up an appointment to see the doctor for a yearly exam. I had one issue the entire time I dealt with the dealership and Mike was there. I had a problem with my CD player on my second car. I came in a few times to get it changed out under warranty and there was always an issue with it being the wrong part or not finding the serial number. In frustration, I emailed the dealership and told them this was not the type of service I was used to. Unknown to me, Mike was the one who read the dealership email and I received a call. He asked me to come in and they would get the CD player installed. When I arrived, he found me and apologized for what happened. He gave me his business card and wrote on the back "one free oil change" for my trouble.

When I was involved a rear-end collision two years ago, Mike was the second person I called (insurance company the first) and he gave me advise on the collision place he had used in the past and how to go about getting it fixed. He helped me again when my rear window was vandalized and needed to find a place to have it replaced. I was never a number, never given the runaround. He's always been there when I needed him for the past twelve years.

The last "issue" was when the electronic key on my key ring was malfunctioning. I called Mike and before he began going through an explanation on how to get into it, he suggested I use the spare key. I started laughing -- I never thought of that. When I told him I felt like a moron, he belly-laughed. Then he went into an explanation of opening and replacing the battery inside the electronic key. I never would have guessed that would be placed in the old times, old days -- the old, new normal.

Not to go into personal detail about his life, but he has a lot to ponder. He's not far from retirement and he's unsure as to whether he wants to go back in sales with his time remaining. He said that he can get a job somewhere -- that wasn't the issue. He felt bad for me, a Saturn owner. But Mike said with a smile in his voice that this was a bump in the road that life throws at you sometimes and he'd let all the Saturn owners know if he sets up shop at another dealership.

Saturn is a great car and I'll drive it until I trade it in or it is no longer driveable. I knew Mike and I would part company someday. I had hoped it would be under better circumstances and that I'd have another salesperson who would be my Saturn contact.

Here's hoping that life improves for all of us under the new, new, new, new, new normal.