Let me tell you a story about my wonky refrigerator | Canada Voices

If Dyson ever makes a refrigerator, buy it. Here’s why.

One sad day, something on my not-so-new Dyson vacuum went wonky. I contacted the company looking to get a replacement part. I was told that Dyson would instead simply send me a new vacuum. When the new one arrived, I was to put the problematic vacuum in the box and a courier would pick it up.

As customer service goes, this was gobsmackingly impressive. Then again, maybe this is what you should expect when you buy a vacuum that costs more than $1,000?

Really, what does your money get you these days? I’ll tell you: shoddy merchandise and a calendar gutted by four-hour service-repair windows. Not to mention the sneaking suspicion that you’ve been duped. From gimcrack luxury goods to short-lived big ticket items such as appliances, there’s precious little quality to be had at any price.

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Case in point: my new refrigerator. (I have several case histories to pull from – for instance, the two-year saga of my sectional sofa or the non-EV compliant tires put on my EV – but let’s start with my new fridge, why don’t we?)

My Fancy High-end Fridge, (a brand synonymous with quality and luxury), had become maniacally unreliable. I’d open it to discover that the milk had become cheese, the cheese had become a science project and the perishables had all perished. The contents all had to be chucked. A day later, however, the fridge would be back to its cool, collected self.

Until it wasn’t.

Eventually, this game of E. coli roulette had to end. I bit the bullet and ordered a new fridge. Unfortunately, I had to go with the same make and model in order to use the existing front panels.

And so begins this tale of woe.

The removing, receiving, installing, connecting of water lines and replacing of panels takes three service calls over three days. At the conclusion of this lengthy process, there is much rejoicing with frosty beverages full of clinking ice, courtesy of Fancy High-end Fridge’s built-in icemaker.

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A few weeks later, there are no frosty beverages. The icemaker has stopped working. Several days of bewilderment follow wherein the skinny metal arm that controls ice production is adjusted, readjusted and de-adjusted. The owner’s manual is consulted.

A service call is arranged. Inexplicably the fridge is given a tech upgrade, the energy efficiency feature is disabled and I’m told the appliance will now be 30-per-cent louder. If I don’t have ice inside for four days – four days! – I’m to call again. Now, why, I ponder, would anyone want a non-energy efficient, louder fridge?

Four days later, no ice has appeared. Another service call. Freezer is emptied. This time it’s determined that the icemaker apparatus will have to be replaced.

Another service call. Freezer is emptied.

The new icemaker cannot be made to fit inside the fridge. A replacement part for the replacement part is ordered. Weeks pass.

Another service call. Yet another icemaker arrives. Freezer is emptied.

This latest replacement unit proves unworkable. If you’re not keeping count, the tally is now three failed icemakers.

I take to drinking, but, as there’s no ice to clink in my glass, this worrisome development goes undetected.

I have fraught communications with the company that sold me the fridge; the factory-authorized repair company; and a Karoline Leavitt wannabe at the American behemoth that handles manufacturer authorized servicing on a range of commercial and residential appliances.

I explain that I’ve lost confidence in my expensive new fridge, specifically, and in the brand, generally. If, indeed, factory supplied parts cannot rectify the problem, what other conclusion would a sensible person arrive at? If they won’t replace the fridge, I want the warranty extended. The American behemoth puts a magisterial kibosh on that idea.

The company insists on a fourth – fourth! – attempt to fix the icemaker problem. A service call is scheduled. Unlike when all this started back in the summer, I can now put the contents of the freezer outside on the patio. So there is at least one advantage in how lengthy this process has become.

Two servicemen arrive. You know the drill: Freezer is emptied.

They spend a few hours puttering with the fridge, eventually giving up. Two days later, there’s a gleeful e-mail from American behemoth: “Great news,” it reads, “We’re sending you a new fridge!”

You’d think I’d won something.

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Currently, Fancy High-end Fridge brand doesn’t have any in stock so – get this – they’re making me one. I figure I should have ice by next summer.

Lest you think I’m cursed, know that it’s not just me. A friend bemoans her defective new Designer Gas Range. She complains that its manufacturer is just running out the clock, one futile service call after another. She’s been going through cancer treatments and says, “These four-hour service windows are eating up whatever time I have left.” We joke about holding a progressive dinner where we start with warm drinks at my place and proceed to her place for cold food.

There’s a longer version of this story, but its retelling should involve frosty beverages and, as I still have no ice, it’ll have to wait. In the meantime, a warning: If I invite you over for dinner, eat before you come, just to be on the safe side. And would you mind bringing some ice?

Jane Macdougall is a writer based in Vancouver.