The razor came with a two-year warranty. But to claim the warranty, I need my receipt.
I can’t find my receipt. I have a drawer stuffed with receipts for just about everything else I’ve bought in the past six months, but not the razor.
If I went back to the store where I bought the razor, they could probably come up with a copy of the receipt for me, since they track my every movement using one of those frequent shopper cards.
Then I’d simply have to find a box, pack the razor securely inside in, enclose a letter detailing the problem and pay to have it all shipped it to some godforsaken place in west Texas.
A company representative told me that if they couldn’t fix my razor, they would replace it with another one. A refurbished one.
“If you are dissatisfied with your razor for any reason, simply return it with a dated proof of purchase, in the original packaging, with all accessories, parts and instructions, and we will replace it with somebody else’s used razor!”
This is not the definition of “warranty” I grew up with.
I’ve decided I’m going to have to start treating most of the electronics in the house as disposable.
Toys under the Christmas tree that require batteries? Three-week lifespan, at best.
I bought a new coffeemaker not too long ago. Two months later, I went to pour myself a second cup of coffee, and heard something clank inside the pot. What on earth? I fished around in the coffee and pulled out a dome-shaped piece of plastic, followed by a metal spring. It was the doohickey that stops the coffee flow if you want to pour yourself a cup mid-stream. I never could figure out how it got INSIDE the pot.
I never could figure out how to put it back on, either.
Of all the newly disposable electronics, the microwave is the worst.
Each of the last three microwaves we’ve owned has stopped working after precisely 731 days — one day after the warranty runs out.
I think the thing that keeps breaking is the magnatron tube (who knew I’d been cooking all these years using alien technology?).
Technically, the magnatron tube is under an extended warranty, and could be eligible for repair or replacement at an authorized service center. All I have to do is stick my microwave in the mail.
The last time the microwave broke, I faced reality, and replaced it with the smallest, cheapest one possible. It doesn’t do a whole lot more than reheat coffee.
Instead of using the microwave, we started making popcorn on the stovetop.
In a metal pot.
Which will presumably last longer than 731 days.
Lisa Davis is The Star’s features editor. Contact her at 256-235-3555.