Nearly two years ago, I bought myself a Dyson to celebrate the move to a new house. It was so pretty, so shiny... so expensive. I vowed that it would be the last vacuum I'd ever buy, and that it would transform my new house into something my mother would be proud of.
Oh, how wrong I was.
From day one, the darn thing has proven to be "temperamental." The suction is amazing, but it makes an awful noise and has to be shut off if I so much as bump a piece of furniture or reach the end of a rug. And by 'awful noise,' I mean really, really, truly awful. It sounds like a herd of baby goats being tossed into a running wood chipper, in front of a gigantic megaphone.
I have called Dyson customer support about it several times, and each time I've been treated as if I'm some sort of moron that doesn't know how to operate a vacuum cleaner. 'Scuse me, but I have been vacuuming for several years now, and not once has one of my vacuums made such a godawful ruckus. Every time I called, I was told by a monotone, disinterested tech to unscrew the bottom of the vacuum, fiddle around with some things, then reattach the vacuum's bottom and "everything would work perfectly." It never worked for more than five minutes. Finally a customer service representative decided that my vacuum must be defective, and asked me to send it in for repairs.
Dyson had my evil vacuum for close to three weeks. When it was finally returned, I gleefully pulled it out of the packaging and took it on a test-drive. All was going well until....
(That's the sound of cute little baby goats slowly being hacked to death in a wood chipper.)
No. NO. No no no no no! They said it was fixed! It's not supposed to sound like that! Make it stop, make it stop!
Dyson had failed us. They refused to replace the damn thing, and refused to give us a refund. We stopped calling tech support, since they never seemed to have any new ideas and kept insinuating we were making the whole thing up. After all, Dysons are "perfect."
We have reluctantly accepted our vacuum's demons. My husband did end up kicking it down the basement stairs once out of anger and frustration, and I have a very colorful nickname for it that is a bit too unsavory to share on a blog that my parents (and in-laws) read on a regular basis.
Lately I have begun coming up with ways to humiliate my Dyson. It all started when I had to use it to vacuum up some dirty cat litter. Here was this fancy, expensive, artsy fartsy vacuum cleaner... sucking up cat poo. How demeaning, how embarrassing! Why, that's Shop Vac work! If only the other Dysons could witness the humiliation!
My husband and I have decided to take a series of embarrassing photographs of our Dyson. I will be sharing the photos with you all, in an effort to make the vacuum realize what a failure it has been, and to shame it into behaving properly.
"Dyson is using the toilet, and someone walks in. Dyson is embarrassed."
More to come, more to come. I see this becoming a weekly routine.
(And please, don't tell me I need to go out and buy the new XYZ Dyson model because it's "sooo much better" than our current model. If a product is crappy, you don't go out and buy another one for three times the cost of the original crappy product. That's just dumb.)