We live in a weird world of rules. I recently saw an ad to have a furnace tuned up for a good price-$59. We have a forced air furnace in our home and one out in the Airbnb. The snowfall on Halloween reminded me that it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have both furnaces checked out. So I clicked on the ad. I went through and dutifully filled out all the information the company needed. Mainly it was about how I was going to pay for this wonderful deal. The little asterisk next to the deal revealed that I was also going to pay a service technician another fee for the pleasure of tuning up the furnace In the special instructions, I wrote “I have two furnaces.” The fee for one furnace was now well over $200. I sighed and clicked to go ahead. I next was ushered into the “when do you want to schedule it?” land on the computer. Amazingly, each time I clicked a date, it wasn’t to be. Finally, I got a timeframe between 8 a.m. and 5 p.m. a couple weeks ahead. The fact I am an artist and there at home was a plus, I figured. Who can stay home all day and wait for a technician?
That filled out, I got a confirmation email along with another email later, asking me to fill out another form to get furnace number two ordered. I was now on the verge of $500 for a furnace tuneup. Still, I thought that if I don’t do it, I will be sorry in January. I had already filled out the form for furnace number one. Might as well bite the bullet and do the same for furnace number two. The same questions and dance ensued. Lucky for me, the date and time-slot was the same.
The date arrived and the technician showed up at 8 a.m. I was surprised as I showed up at 8:30 a.m., having dropped my daughter off at school. Still, the technician was kind and laid back.
“Hey, um, you have one furnace to tune up, right?” he asked.
“No, I filled out two forms for two furnaces.” I said.
“Uh, let me call the appointment center,” he said.
Onto his cellphone he goes. No one was at the appointment center except a friendly recorded female voice.
“Your call is very important to us,” she said.
The technician rolled his eyes as smooth jazz came out of the speakerphone.
“You have to listen to that too?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he sighed. “This system is really messed up.”
“You should get workman’s comp for having to listen to that smooth jazz every day,” I suggested.
He laughed. 30 minutes later, a voice came on. He gave his technician work number and a couple of other numbers. He explained that he had one work ticket, but I had ordered two. About another 20 minutes went by. Finally, he was able to get both furnaces onto one ticket. We were getting somewhere, I thought.
“Well,” he said with just a bit of excitement, “looks like we can get those furnaces tuned up.”
“Great,” I said. “Let’s start with the Airbnb room.”
We walked out to our Airbnb, and I brought in a step ladder from the garage. The furnace is the sort that sits atop one of the bathrooms. Mainly because that was the only space available. Still, it was serviceable and reachable with the ladder.
The technician had on his toolbelt. It was oddly similar to the outfit worn by the Ghostbusters team. A whirring noise was constantly going from one of the contraptions on the belt. I was intrigued by both the belt and now the sudden hesitation of the technician.
“Uh-oh,” he said.
“What?” I asked.
“That ladder looks like it might be 8 feet tall,” he said.
“Ok?” I said, a bit confused.
“I gotta call my supervisor about this,” he said. “We aren’t allowed to go above 8 feet.”
I was thinking of suggesting we get out a tape measure and see where 7 feet, eleven inches ended, but I bit my tongue.
Out came the phone. Another 15 minutes of conversation ensued. This time he kept the speaker off. Finally he sighed and ended the call.
“Yep, just what I suspected,” he said.
“What?” I asked.
“Yeah, my supervisor doesn’t want me to get up on the ladder,” he said. “Company policy is that we can’t get 8 feet off the ground.”
By this time, I was not certain I wanted the furnaces serviced by this company anyway.
“Oh, too bad,” I said.
“Uh, you probably don’t want me to tune up the other furnace,” he asked.
I thought about it for a second.
“No, probably not,” I said. “Sorry I wasted your time.”
“No problem,” he said. “I get paid by the hour.”
I escorted him out of the place and went back inside where I don’t get paid by the hour.
The ladder still is standing where I set it up for him in the Airbnb, the filter, leaning against the wall.
I will most likely change the filters and cross my fingers for this winter.
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