Ms. KNB expected good service in all things; it was her nature, but was disappointed with the Jimbo, as he did not meet her exacting expectations. Ms. KNB, always very adroit at reading the fine print, found that she was entitled to a factory rebuild, or at the very least, a store credit for the Jimbo, after all, she had a life time guarantee. He simply would no longer do. There was absolutely no need for this defective product any longer, and she was entitled to something.
The store manager patiently explained to Ms. KNB that the Jimbo line had been discontinued when the original company had gone belly up and had been taken over by another firm; the warranties were void. Ms. KNB was furious but certain that there was a clause in the original contract that covered just such a situation, but on further reflection, she decided that this was one of those times to just let it go and move on. She just wanted to be rid of the tiresome Jimbo. Space was at a premium in her life right now and there simply was no room for sentiment when it came to a product that had nothing to offer. She had tried to sell her Jimbo on Craigs List, but that had proved fruitless and frustrating. Lots of phone calls...but not one person showed up to see the product.
Imagine her chagrin when the service department informed her that there would be a fee for disposing of the Jimbo. Ms. KNB was speechless and angrier than she had been in a long, long time. Not only was her warranty worthless, a disposal fee was expected! And that was not even the worst of it, she was to drag the product over to the Returns Department clear across the store. Welcome to the new millennium where service sucks! What was wrong with the world, for Christ's sake!
Ms. KNB became more and more impatient when presented with a pile of papers that needed to be filled out pertaining to disposal and a survey as to why the product was deemed unacceptable. Although she was furious, she waded into the annoying paperwork thinking that the whole ordeal would be over, finally and forever in just a few minutes.
"Did you say that this was the 1952 model?", inquired the officious young woman in Returns.
"Yes, it is, but he hasn't been used in years...there's still a lot of good parts there."
"We cannot accept any Jimbos from that particular year, Ms. KNB."
"What! You've got to be kidding! Why the hell not?"
"Excessive radiation exposure. You know, above ground testing. We simply cannot dispose of Jimbos safely from that particular year. It's the law. Your Jimbo will have to be handled by a government agency or a licensed private concern if you still intend on disposal."
Ms. KNB could feel her blood pressure rising; her head pounding, and she asked herself what else could go wrong today. Surely it could not be so difficult to get rid of a Jimbo, even one from 1952. She contemplated taking him home and chopping him up with an ax, but the lady in Returns seemed to have been reading her thoughts.
"Just so you know, Ms. KNB, any unauthorized disposal of this particular model will result in an extremely heavy fine and possible jail time. It's a federal offense. Just so you know."
"Well what are other people doing with their 1952 models? I can't be the only person on the planet with this particular problem!"
"You might try the firm of Kitty's Jimbo Disposal with offices in Groton City and Zephyrhills, Florida. Kitty has been quite successful at disposing of Jimbos. That's where I would start."
"Kitty's Jimbo Disposal...let me just write that down...do you have the number? Will this never end?"
Ms. KNB dragged her defective Jimbo out to her Toyota truck and strapped him into the bed; why she had bothered, she could not say. Still very frustrated and upset, she dialed the number in Florida and got the answering machine for Kitty's Jimbo Disposal. Ms. KNB, being a very thorough person, left a detailed message because she was under the impression that people liked that.
Kitty was in no mood to answer the phone that day. She was somewhat depressed and listless, but listened to the message, rolled her eyes and sighed. Kitty was not in the habit of talking to herself, nor inanimate objects, for that matter, but in this case she muttered, "Like I haven't done this before...thanks so much for making it all so clear."
Ms. KNB gunned the Toyota's engine and headed home to await further instructions. Instructions? When had she ever needed instructions in getting what she wanted or getting rid of what she didn't want? Stupid government restrictions. Ms. KNB would have to play this out for awhile, because once she had a plan in her head, there was no removing it. Her plan was to be rid of the Jimbo once and for all; putting it away in a closet and forgetting about it was not an option now. Ms. KNB was what you would call a very determined and formidable woman.