Recently, our dryer stopped getting hot. It still turned on and tumbled; there simply was no heat. I found that odd but luckily we have a laundromat on the corner so I just dragged that last load over there to dry. I always try to be Mrs. Fix-it so I removed the back hose and made sure there was no lint blockage. I even vacuumed out the lint trap to make extra sure there was no problem there. Still, no heat.
We have a warranty on our dryer and since it isn't even two years old yet, I called and had the repairman come out to take a look. He said there was nothing wrong with the dryer, the electrical outlet simply wasn't putting out enough voltage. Interesting. One would think that it would be all or none when it comes to electricity. Unfortunately, we had to involve the rental agency and have them get an electrician out to survey the problem.
Luckily, they sent an electrician out that same day. Charles poked and prodded a couple outlets but couldn't identify the problem. When he opened the door to the electricity panel, he sort of chuffed and said "Here's the problem!" I'd say! See those breakers? Burnt, I tell you! Naturally, I freaked out. From appearances, that shit looks like it was on fire. I have a baby and a dog and don't want my apartment burning down thankyouverymuch. He said he had advised that they replace this stuff long ago because it was old but clearly that wasn't on the priority list. Guess what he's doing today?
My favorite part of this process was the rental agency trying to assure me that this wasn't a big deal. That there was never any risk to me or my family. And when I did express concern, that condescending bitch on the other end of the telephone line would hear none of it. Then, she had the other guy call me to tell me the same shit she already did. I told him "Apparently I am not allowed to be concerned about any of this so I'm not sure why you are calling me." I'm very ready to move into my house so I no longer have to go through a third party when I need repairs done. I just get to have the headache all by myself instead of having it compounded by assholes. Husband thinks they were just extra "in my business" because they're scared of me after all my letter writing. Whatever.
MORAL OF THAT STORY: Why rent when you can own?