So, the latest on the Bosch dishwasher is that the extended warranty people sent an email to Three Weeks (because he is the only Bosch person in the area) telling him to give me a call to arrange to fix the bloody thing (bloody thing is a technical term used by irate people who have bought a Bosch dishwasher three years ago).
Of course, he didn’t call. So I call the extended warranty people again and they tell me if it’s the door seals then these are not covered under the warranty anyway. Of course!
I then call Three Weeks, actually he should be called Four Weeks as a month has now gone by since I first called him. This is the conversation:
“Oh yeah. I remember. You’ve got a leak. Where is it coming from?”
“Well, we don’t know really, do we? On account of the fact that you still haven’t managed to drag your lardy arse the 8km up here” (I didn’t actually say, lardy arse, but it was on the tip of my tongue).
“Well, I don’t know if the parts have come yet.”
“What parts?”
“The parts you want.”
“But we don’t know what the problem is yet.”
“Don’t you?
“No, you NEED TO COME AND LOOK AT IT!”
“Oh yeah.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
“No.”
“What?”
“I mean tomorrow is not good.”
“What about Monday morning?”
“Oh yeah.”
Now, on Monday this week I had to have an x-ray on my hand because one of my fingers is hurting badly (it’s the one I use for pointing out things, and jabbing at tossers).
The x-rays get delivered to the doctor’s on Tuesdays.
I called the surgery today (Thursday) as I’d heard nothing from them.
“Hello, have you had the x-rays delivered this week?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Has mine arrived?”
Rustle of paper.
“Oh yeah.”
“Right. So, is it all okay?”
Yeah. No, I mean, yeah no.”
“So I need to come in to see the doctor?”
“Oh yeah.”
“When were you going to let me know, like next week or something?”
“Yeah.”
“Right. So is Monday afternoon okay?”
More paper rustling.
“Oh yeah.”
