Ah yes, the miracle of moving continues. It was a big day at the housette, appliance delivery. In case you haven’t heard already, these Europeans don’t leave much behind so there was simply no way around the big ticket items like a fridge and a washer and thanks be to all that is holy, a dishwasher (or in Rusty’s case, a TV).

Now I’m no stranger to this appliance delivery drama. We’ve had to do it for every house we’ve ever done and it never fails to elicit the pleasure of say…a root canal. We’ve had it all, stoves arriving smashed, Grand Canyonesque gouges in newly sanded floors but the one that put me over the edge took place just before we left Canada.

We’d just sold our house to fund the Big French Adventure and bear in mind that we had just installed these swanky appliances not more than 8 or nine months prior to selling. The dishwasher went on the fritz and I was desperate to get it sorted for the new owners. I was dealing with a company which out of respect shall remain nameless, Sears, and over the next month we had several debacles to find the fix.

First guy said he fixed it, second guy said it needed a part conveniently located in Edmonton, third guy forgot the part and the fourth guy finally solved it (after a no show) but not without an earful from me. I was especially riled up by that famous 9-4 or 12-8 pm window that they offer meaning on five separate occasions one of us had to be absent from work. “Oh yes, hello hospital for really sick children? I can’t doctor today because I have to sit at home and wait for 7 hours and hope that the dishwasher man decides to grace me with his presence. I hope no one dies.” His response: “Well I’m working too you know.” What does that even mean???

Okay cut to a housette in France. The van from the local appliance store pulled up, at 2 pm, exactly when they said they were coming, let us pause to take that in. They carefully unpacked and installed all the gear, programmed the TV and then gave us an incredibly detailed demonstration of how to use everything. Okay in ridiculously rapid French, didn’t understand a word but still. The guy knew every single thing about all the machines despite them being different brands. Then, wait for it, they packed up all the boxes and asked if we would like them to cart away all the Ikea boxes we had lying around! And that’s the game, France 1, Canada 0.

Oh I’m not talking any one store down. No no, sure I got equally crappy service from the cable and phone companies. But after this impressive display it would be hard to go back. It was all so…civilized. And you know me, I’m all about being civil. So Sears, if you don’t mind, please bite me.