With the precision of a Rockettes’ dance number, one by one the windows in my house have all snapped the little doohickey that lets them slide up and down smoothly and keeps them from going off-tilt. If I were a window repairman, I’m sure there would be a real name for the broken part and with that real name, a real expensive price tag and a real expensive labor call.
But karma intervened and a handyman who I had asked over for a repair estimate wound up being both knowledgable and honest. “Milgard windows?” he said, as I waited for the proverbial kicking of the tires that always comes when one craftsman disses the work of another. “You don’t need me. These have a lifetime warranty,” he said instead. “They will just come out and fix them or replace them for you.” He scribbled down the number while I waited for my dropped jaw to close.
Still unconvinced that anyone in this day and age offers a lifetime warranty on anything, I called the number. The woman dutifully checked my name and address in her computer and asked “When would it be convenient to have a serviceman there?”
“No charge, right?” I asked.
“That’s right, Ma’am.”
“Not for labor or parts or anything?” I asked again.
“No Ma’am. We offer lifetime warranties.”
I was in shock. Speechless.
“Ma’am? Would you like to schedule a service call?” she interrupted my stupor.
“Aha! How much for the service call?” I asked, the “gotcha” element oozing in my words.
“We don’t charge for the service call.” Read More
Article orginally posted in the Huffington Post written by Ann Brenoff. Click here to read the entire article.