we *finally* bought a washer and dryer yesterday. 
i readily admit my excitement in this matter is at a ridiculous level. i'm just as thrilled as i was about buying our car. maybe more so.
part of the reason, i think, that i'm so happy is due to how the sale itself went.
i never thought i'd say this, but- thanks, home depot.
i worked there for two years. as you can imagine, in that time i gained quite a bit of experience with salesmen. which, as it turned out, was a valuable learning period for me.
too bad for the guy who sold us our new appliances that i didn't share this information with him. from the moment he saw us step onto the showroom floor he was working it old school- asking how long we'd been in town, do we like connecticut, where did we move here from and isn't our daughter just adorable? (a few months, it's beautiful, south carolina last, and thank you, yes she is
) he didn't try to talk us into a more expensive model than we had already decided on (hooya, online research) but that's probably because he was SO busy trying to get us both to sign up for sears credit cards. which we did in order to get the discount (because you can always pay the amount in full when the bill arrives).
then he started pushing the extended service warranty. i can see how a lot of people would get conned into these- they sound like a really good idea if you don't know too much about them. but this guy had no idea who he was dealing with. i've seen first hand how "helpful" that extra few hundred bucks isn't when it comes to getting any real service on whatever you're buying. talk about fine print. so i politely said no. and then he pushed some more. so i said no again. and God bless his little heart, he tried one more time with, "are you sure? with the baby?" (this brought an image to mind of my nearly year old daughter crawling determinedly into the laundry room with a hammer and a severe grudge to settle against my brand new washer). i looked him in the eye, smiled slightly, and said, "i'm sure. thank you. i'm sure". at that point i'm fairly certain he realized he'd lost the extra commission (and whatever reward sears gives its employees for dumping a certain number of these warranties on people every month) but he just couldn't resist adding, "ok...." in that salesman tone that sounds like they're giving up but really means, "it's your funeral, lady. just trying to help out".
i couldn't help a smug smile as we exited the building.
my house smells like laundry right now. mmm.
tune in next time for, "you're not my dad! (or, "pot, the american way, and a lay look at the constitution").
cheers! 