Power Vent Water Heater, Feel My Rage!

In 2006, our water heater started hemorrhaging water and we had to replace it. We had moved into the house just a few months before, and we knew the water heater was ancient, but it wasn't exactly the first Thanksgiving in the new casa that we were hoping for. This was no ordinary water heater, by the way: It was a "power vent" model that vents to the outside, not through the chimney. We soon learned that we'd be shelling out about twice the cost of a direct vent water heater to get this baby replaced.

Fast forward three years to the week after Thanksgiving, 2009. Our three-year-old 50-gallon power vent water heater stops working. The controller is blinking an error code that translates to "ECO Failure: Lockout condition." Intense Googling reveals that this is a problem only a plumber can diagnose and repair.

Because our water heater has a 6-year warranty, we call the manufacturer, who confirms that we need to hire a plumber. Which we do. The plumber comes out, calls the manufacturer's technical service support, and announces the verdict: Fried motherboard. A new one will be sent via FedEx overnight service, and the plumber will return to install it. Diagnosis charge: $144.00.

(I'd like to take a moment here to ask what in the hell this water heater is calculating such that its motherboard could become "fried" after three years. Has it been commandeered by the government to devote some of its processing power to the SETI project?)

Anyhoo, the next day the part arrives and the plumber returns to perform 15 minutes of installation work. Repair charge: $160.00.

Hey! What about that warranty?

"The PARTS are under warranty, but you still have to pay for labor," the manufacturer tells us. Sweet.

That's $304.00 for repairs, which is around 1/3 the cost of a new unit. So, we resign ourselves to this cost, chalking it up to the price of home ownership. At least we have hot water!, we tell ourselves. For the next 36 hours.

Until...

The damn thing stops working again! In the middle of my shower. On Saturday morning.

We refuse to hire an emergency / after-hours plumber ($$$$) so we bathe at the gym until Monday, when we get the manufacturer and our plumber on the phone. Turns out, the manufacturer gave the plumber bad advice, and sent a part that was inadequate to get the job done. So they'll have to send ANOTHER part, and we'll have to pay the plumber to come out AGAIN. Estimated repair charge: $240.00.

For those of you keeping score at home, that's 3 trips from the plumber at a total of $544.00 to repair a 3-year-old water heater.

But hey, at least those parts are under warranty, right?

Pet Shop Boys VIP Meet and Greet Organizer - Feel My Rage!

A few months ago, I bought tickets and VIP passes to a Pet Shop Boys concert that is part of their Fall 2009 North American tour. The organizer of the VIP Meet and Greet sent a letter stating that we would receive details about the time and place of the Meet and Greet about 1 week before the show. No problem.

However, the letter also stated that no photography would be allowed at the Meet and Greet.

Wha...? This was news to me. I double-checked the terms and conditions on the website where I bought the tickets/VIP passes, and nowhere did it mention photography being prohibited.

I was a bit ticked off. Second to the wonderful memory of meeting your favorite band, photographic evidence is an important component of the bragging rights one can rightfully claim after having met such luminaries. I was imagining snapping a photo with Neil on one side, Chris on the other, and me in the middle holding up that day's newspaper as proof of life.

But nooooo.

Thank you, unstated terms and conditions!

I had a few months to get over that annoyance when, the week before the concert, I received an email from the organizer of the Meet and Greet disclosing, as promised, the details of where and when. To my surprise, VIP pass holders were instructed to queue up at 4:30PM, and nobody would be let in after 5:15PM. For an 8PM show. Christ! Some of us have jobs!

Of course, it was my fault for assuming that the Meet and Greet would be after the show.

I mean, I figured before the show, they'd be eating dinner, doing sound check, and making sure their hats and wigs were arranged properly for quick changes between sets.

I suppose that by holding the Meet and Greet before the show, they have a built-in end time. "Sorry, fans, you're great, but we've got to get on stage now." None of that awkward, "Come party with us at the pub down the street before you get back on your tour bus, Pet Shop Boys!"

Again, I checked the website and all of the communications from the organizer, and nowhere did it state that the Meet and Greet would be before the show. Don't get me wrong -- I'm still totally psyched to meet Pet Shop Boys, but the side of me that pays attention to detail and likes to, you know, have important information available in order to make a rational purchasing decision... that side of me is a little irritated.

Carry on.

What Now, Indeed!

Today's entry comes to us from the glorious Fail Blog, where Randall Patrick Munroe's paean to the "bitches" at Verizon has captured my heart:


With this geekalicious throw-down, Randall Patrick Munroe is hereby inducted into the Temporary Rage Hall of Flame. Rage on, brother!

Have you used the memo line on your checks (or other bill-pay tactics) to stick it to the man? Share your story in the comments.

(Image: Randall Patrick Munroe, via Fail Blog)

My Own Private Mortgage Hell

There's been a lot of talk lately about the mortgage crisis, a topic on which I am wholly unqualified to comment. Let me tell you instead about the rage-inducing customer service experiences I keep having with my mortgage lender, whose name I shall not broadcast for fear of being sued. Everything I am about to say is true, but this Ohio-based financial institution that was founded in 1858 has more in-house lawyers than I do.

I refinanced my adjustable-rate mortgage last year into a fixed-rate version with a lower interest rate. Yay!, right? Kinda. I soon learned that my new mortgage came with an online banking system that seems to have been designed by someone with a very limited imagination...or a sick sense of humor.

Here's what happened (and continues to happen). The month after I got my shiny new mortgage, I sent a small additional payment to the bank through an electronic funds transfer from my primary bank. As instructed by the mortgage bank's online help (yes, I did actually RTFM), I noted "PRINCIPAL PAYMENT" in the memo line.

About two weeks later (two weeks!), I got a letter in the mail from the mortgage bank informing me that I had made a payment on my mortgage (thanks, guys!), but they didn't know what to do with it (...really?). The letter stated that I needed to inform them in writing of my wishes, whether to hold the excess payment until my next monthly payment was due or apply it to the principal.

I guess they didn't see the memo (line).

I called Customer Service and asked if I really had to send them back a physical letter, or if I could just tell them my wishes and have them note it on my account for all future additional payments. The Customer Service rep said the latter was fine. So I let my wishes be known. The rep informed me that it would take up to five business days for the payment to be processed as a principal payment. "But you've had the money for two weeks!" I protested. "Why will it take you so long to actually apply it to my account?" The response was the Customer Service equivalent of "I don't make the rules..."

Several days later I got a letter in the mail stating that my additional payment had been applied to the principal on my mortgage. The letter also helpfully informed me that if I wished to contact Customer Service, I could give them instructions on how to apply future excess payments. Hmm. The letter also apologized for "any inconvenience this may have caused." (Gotta love the "may have.")

The next month, I made an additional payment and went online to verify it was applied correctly. It was not. It was listed as an "Unapplied Credit." (As in, sits in a pool earning interest for the bank until your next mortgage payment is due, at which time it is applied to your balance.) I sent the bank an email message via their web site and asked them to apply it to the principal balance immediately, and reminded them that I had called the previous month to indicate that that was my preference for all excess payments. I received an apologetic response and was assured it would be adjusted and applied to the principal. I got the same form letter in the mail a few days later.

Later, rinse, repeat, about 10 times (what can I say? I like to chip away at that ginormous balance, if only just a few bucks at a time.) After a few more months of apologetic but ultimately unhelpful service from the bank, I was able to determine the root cause of the problem. It is interesting to note that I reached this determination not with any direct assistance of the Customer Service department, but by comparing multiple, disparate responses from Customer Service that were all partially incorrect in their own unique way.

As it turns out, there are multiple points of failure here.

1. The bank's system processes all payments (by physical check or electronic transfer) without human intervention, so writing "PRINCIPAL PAYMENT" on your check is useless. (Online Help fail!)


2. The bank's processing system is not smart enough to associate incoming payments with information (such as payment allocation directives) in a customer's account profile, unless the payment is coming from a checking account held by that same bank. (Interoperability fail!)


3. Their Customer Service system is not sophisticated enough to recognize the need for escalation after a customer has reported the same issue more than, say, a dozen times in less than a year. I have a stack of identically worded letters from this bank, and each time I get one, it makes me angrier than the last. (Customer Service fail!)

I could go on. About, say, the fact that the Online Customer Service team really needs to look into spellcheck. (Seriously, sir or madam: I've already spelled "principal" correctly for you in my bi-weekly emails requesting that you process my payment as a principal reduction. Don't write back and tell me you've applied my payment to the "principle" on my mortgage.) But that would be splitting hairs.

Do you have a tale of spectacular Customer Service failure? Do you hate your bank, too? Leave your story in the comments.

Photo credit: AMagill