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Dear Poopyheaded Smartarse Dishwasher Repairman,

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Thank you for your visit today. I know it was not your fault that when you arrived this morning I was still in my pyjamas. I assumed we would be waiting for you for hours and was not rushing to get dressed. It did enhance what was to be an unbelievably tedious encounter though, didn’t it?

I would just like to say that I was especially impressed by all of your eye rolling and muttering at our description of the dishwasher’s problems. It is sometimes hard for us moronic plebs to avoid irritating the highly talented and gifted, such as yourself. We do try though and to this end, believe it or not, we had checked for a kinked hose ourselves.

It was very sweet that you pulled out the dishwasher filter and scrubbed away at it. I have never felt so festy as I did when you pronounced that it was merely a blocked filter that was preventing our dishwasher from running AT ALL. You managed to get the blasted thing to run, I was forced to concede that it did appear to now be working. You explained, as if speaking to a very small child, that we must clean the dishwasher filter every time we use it and repeatedly told us that you could not stress that enough. We get it, we’re filthy. Oh the shame.

I suggested that you could wait and see if it stopped part way through the cycle, just as it has been when we have managed to get it to run. I felt cowed by your insistence that it was our lazy, periodic filter cleaning that was to blame. No one would behave like that much of a smartarse unless they were sure about it, right?

That’s why, Little Wankywank Wankerson, I was particularly livid when, about six minutes after you left our house, the dishwasher stopped mid-cycle, repeating it’s performance of the last four days. I was thrilled.

The filter is now clean and surprise, the dishwasher still does not work. Let’s hope tomorrow’s visit is more productive, shall we?

From

Stupid Housewife

P.S. I will be ready, the dishwasher is now so shiny you can not look at it directly.

P.P.S. I forgot to thank you for you phone call this afternoon. I loved that you were able to question what I meant by “the dishwasher is not working”. You can’t make it untrue just by refusing to believe me. I have not sabotaged your work, wilfully clogging up the filter just so I could see you again. Trust me, you were just wrong.

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5 responses

  1. I feel your rage. Would you like me to hex him? Obviously, after he has finished fixing the dishwasher of course.xx

  2. Wait. Dishwashers have a filter? I had no idea. I have never in my life seen, much less cleaned, a dishwasher filter. Tell the repairman there are worse housewives than you out there, and to be glad he didn’t have to make a call to our house!

    HeatherPride’s last blog post… Yep. I Opened this Can of Worms

  3. Hey, I think that your dishwasher guy is the same guy that doesn’t fix our heater/air con. After 3 years it still only works sporadically. I hope you have better luck with your dishwasher.

    del’s last blog post… Craptastic Days

  4. Honestly, why be rude? I understand that repair people probably see lots of problems that are easy to fix or caused by careless owners. But what does it benefit him to be so difficult?

    And I have never cleaned a dishwasher filter. Ever. Certainly not after every use.

    Amber’s last blog post… Jacob’s Hair

  5. I hate to say this…but this letter is HILARIOUS!

    We did a kitchen remodel 2 years ago and hired the electrical to be done “professionally”. The Electrician-From-Hell showed up at 7am… WHILE I WAS BREASTFEEDING MY BABY. He wasn’t to be there until 8, AND the company policy is that they will call 15 minutes before arrival. He was LIVID when I answered the door at 7:45. He installed everything wrong and crooked, then REFUSED to come out to fix it until we had paint on the walls and tile on the floor (because that affects electrical HOW?). He was later fired, but the company still didn’t make it right. UGH!! Makes me nuts.

    I hope you tell us how it turns out after his next visit!!!!

    Hyphen Mama’s last blog post… There’s no place like home….

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