Personification

Or, How Cuisinart Broke My Heart

Many many years ago, or exactly 30.5 years ago, my aunt received a Cuisinart food processor for Christmas. And she loved it, and she and my mom played around with it and then my mom loved it.


Here I am, having just turned three years old, sitting on my aunt's lap as she perused her brand new Cuisinart instruction manual.


She read and I stole her bracelets. A good time was had by all!

So the following year for my mom's birthday, my aunt bought my mom a Cuisinart. My mom loved her own Cuisinart food processor as much as she loved my aunt's and let me tell you, she used the hell out of that little machine. She had a dozen or so fancy blades as well as the regular ones and she basically used it every night. And yes I remember her using it every night because the dish washer, that would have been me, had to wash the parts by hand since they weren't put in the dish washing machine. Anyway, when she died, the Cuisinart came to me where it did not get much use for several years. And by much use I mean no use. It sat on a shelf, collecting dust. But then I got into the whole "cooking" thing and the Cuisinart came out more and more often (as did the KitchenAid mixer, but that is a whole 'nother story).

So, the Cuisinart and I were friends. We made many things together, many good things like chicken croissants and spinach dip. And a couple of months ago, we were making one of these very good things, chicken croissants, when my little Cuisinart gave a gasp and quit working. I gave a gasp too.

I contacted Cuisinart and the woman told me I could send my machine in for repair but she wasn't sure about the details of costs and things like that, so I did nothing. I figured the shipping on this thing would be an arm and a leg being that it weighed just under four tons and couldn't decide what to do. A friend told me to send it in and see what Cuisinart would do. She thought as a loyal long time customer, they would repair it for free or send me a new one if it couldn't be repaired. She was an optimist and it was contagious.

So I called Cuisinart and said, "Yes sign me up! Fix my machine!" And Cuisinart said, "Okay, give us the serial number." And I said, "I have no serial number, it is a CFP model nine." And Cuisinart said, "No, no, silly, all machines have a serial number." And I said, "No really, no serial number!" And Cuisinart said, "Liar!" And I said, "Nu-uh!" And they said, "Uh-huh" And I said, "Listen to me, this is a CFP model nine, it is like 20 years old, There. Is. No. Serial. Number." And Cuisinart said, "Let us speak amongst ourselves." And they did. And they decided that maybe I was not in fact a liar and that they gave me a random number to use and told me to mail it in. And so with my random number, I went to UPS and paid thirty friggen dollars and sent off my little baby with a kiss and a sob letter explaining that it was my mom's machine and I've treasured it and loved it and used it and my dozen blades and could they please fix it, pretty, pretty please with sugar and a cherry on top, oh and give it kisses while I wasn't there to do so.

Well yesterday Cuisinart called me and left an obscure message about a thirty year old machine and how I should go look at new machines and then please call them back. And I was confused, but did as asked and then called Cuisinart this morning. Cuisinart said, "Dumbass, your machine is twenty-five to thirty years old, what the hell are you doing sending this old ass shit to us. We no fix." And I said, "What?" And Cuisinart said, "Yes, we don't know why you were told to send this machine in, must be the stupid people in Florida's new call center. Anywho, we haven't done repairs on this machine in at least ten years. And I know this because I, Customer Service Representative, have worked for this fine company ten years and when I started we did not fix machines this old." And I said, "But ... but..." And Cuisinart said, "We'll make you a deal, we'll sell you a refurbished machine for $100." And I said, "Pardon?" And Cuisinart said, "We realize you can get a brand new machine for around the same price, but that is our offer. And just so you know, I personally wouldn't recommend taking the offer, but it is there none the less."


Here are a few of the Cuisinart's blades. I'm not quite sure what they all do.

And I said, "But my blades, all of my glorious blades!" And Cuisinart said, "Yah you're screwed. They won't work on the new machines, and we don't recommend you try to make them work." And with tears streaming down my face because I am a sucker who personified her poor little machine into an orphan in a far away city by its sad little self wondering why it was sent here so very far away without its family, tried to wheel and deal. Although, with all the sniffling I was probably not at my top level of wheeling and dealing performance. And Cuisinart said, "No. No coupons or rebates or discounts or bupkis. We don't do that kind of thing." And I said, "Well could you at least send me my little baby back?" And Cuisinart said, "Sure." And that was the end of that.

So in the next week or so I expect to get my sweet little Cuisinart back and I'm not sure what I'll do at that point. Per Cuisinart's message, I had gone into Williams-Sonoma and spoke to an Awesome Sales Associate who showed me all the new machines. Awesome Sales Associate feels like there should be a solution to my issues and asked me to bring in some of my blades to see what, if anything they fit on. She was kinda intrigued that my blades had the stems affixed on them. Even though I know it is not going to work, I'm going to bring the blades in anyway. But from there, eh, I don't know what to do. The Cuisinart customer service rep was really nice when she was bursting my bubble, destroying my hopes and telling me to go screw. But nonetheless, she did tell me to go screw. So, do I by a new Cuisinart knowing that the company won't do squat for long time customers? But at the same time knowing I may not need squat for thirty years? And also, would it be weird to bury my poor dead machine in the back yard? You know, a proper burial and all that.