Regular readers (should that be singular?) will remember that it was one short week ago when I almost burned down the house by starting the microwave on fire.
When the microwave first broke, I wanted to keep the broken microwave because it has a timer on it that still worked. I thought, “We can just put the old microwave on top of the fridge and we can use the timer on it.”
Hello!?! That is an ENORMOUS kitchen timer. That idea wore itself out in about two seconds.
Yesterday we finally realized that it was time to buy a new microwave. We really liked the one we had before, and wouldn’t mind having the same one again. (I mean, it wasn’t the microwave’s fault that I started a fire in it!) We had received the first one as a wedding gift from my Auntie Violet, and it came from Target.
Onto Target.com we went, looking for the replacement microwave. We found it on their site for just under fifty dollars. (It only has a 2-star rating, but I really don’t expect a < $50 dollar microwave to last more than a couple of years…) We decided that I would go pick it up at Target on the way home from work. When I got to Target, I found the microwave on the shelf. Right beneath the display model was the regular price of $47.77 — specifically for the model that had the black finish. I found the box up on a higher shelf, but the price was for the model that had the white finish. The price on that tag was $59.99. The model numbers were identical except for the last letter: B for the black one and W for the white one. That wasn’t that big of a deal, because I wanted the black one anyway. But it made me wonder. So I carried the microwave over to the price scanner which showed $59.99. I sat there and wondered what I should do. I knew that if I were in the checkout line the computer would show the higher price, and I hate being in the checkout line behind somebody who is arguing with the sales clerk about the price of one of the items. So I decided to go to the help phone and get assistance before I got to the checkout counter. (If you were in the Midvale Super Target yesterday, you owe me a big thanks–because you might have been right behind me in line!) The customer service clerk came over and I showed her the price on the shelf, and the price on the scanner. She said that there must be some mistake, and that the computer must be right, but since the price was wrong on the shelf, she would make sure I paid the lower price. She brought the price card with us, and we went up to the register. In the end, I paid $49.77, which I was happy with. However, before leaving the store, I decided to go tell the customer service counter that there had been a problem. I mean, hey, in Macey’s grocery store, if the price in the computer doesn’t match the price on the shelf, I get five dollars off my total purchase (or something like that). So I walked up to the customer service counter and explained what had happened. The clerk there looked at me with a very blank expression, kind of like a “What do you want me to do about it” expression. I said, “Well, I’m telling you this because I don’t want somebody else to think they are getting a microwave for 47 dollars, and then end up paying 60 dollars for it. She said, “The price in the computer is the price that is accurate.” I responded, “Well, that’s not what was on the shelf, and that’s not what was on Target.com.” “Our in-store prices are not the same as the prices on-line.” “Well, this one was, because regardless of anything else, this is the price that was on the shelf for the exact model number microwave that I bought.” “Okay. We’ll take care of it.” I wondered how. She hadn’t even looked at the receipt or the microwave in my cart. “Do you want the model number or something?” “No. They’ll take care of it.” What I wanted to say (but didn’t) was, “You aren’t really that interested in solving this problem, are you?” So I took the microwave home and removed the old microwave from its stand in the kitchen. You might think that if you bought the exact same microwave to replace the one you owned previously, that it would fit in the same spot as the old one. If you thought that, you’d actually be wrong. The cord on the new microwave is shorter than the old one (by about three inches), so the cord doesn’t reach back behind the fridge to the only plug on that whole wall. So until I can arrange something different, the new microwave is sitting on the kitchen counter (the only four square feet of kitchen counter space that we really have) waiting to find its new home. Things are often more complicated than you think they ought to be. Tune in next time for the continuing saga of the burnt/replaced/displaced microwave…