Twelve weeks ago I sent in a coupon to get an ice cream making attachment for my Kitchen Aid professional stand alone mixer. I sent in for the ice cream making attachment because even though for the last 4 months my stand alone mixer has done nothing but stand alone near some unread cookbooks, I figured that the ice cream making attachment would be just the thing to get me going on my plan to cook more with my kids.
Also it was free. It was supposed to arrive in 6-8 weeks.
A couple days ago I received a spatula in the mail. It was enclosed within a small, white bubble-wrapped envelope with the note stating in essence, “Please accept this gift. The item you requested is out of stock.”
It was a sturdy spatula. The tag attached to this “pie server for professional results” boasted of its stainless steel construction, its “one year hassle-free warranty” as well as its “limited lifetime warranty.” The tag did not elaborate on the difference between the two warranties nor did it articulate what hassles could be expected with the second warranty that would not be associated with the first.
This got me to thinking about how, if ever, a spatula could malfunction. What would need to happen for me to redeem the warranty? Could I say I was dissatisfied with the spatula because of the way it did not make ice cream?
Probably. I bet the company would give me no hassle at all.
I bet they would give me another spatula.
In short, words often don’t work the they way we’d like them to. Requests are ignored. Guarantees promise nothing other than to make you feel like you have a guarantee. There is a lot of writing without a lot of meaning. You kind of wonder whether anyone wants to listen.
All the more reason to use fewer words and to bake more pies.