Misadventures in Home Buying: This is what an Aneurysm Feels Like

Call him William Warranty, call him Sam Smiley, or Frank Feelgood, he seems to be a salt of the earth, okay kind of guy. At least he tells you he’s on your side, he fights your fights. “I work for you,” he says. Only you don’t remember paying him, and maybe that’s why he doesn’t return your calls. He’s the Warranty Specialist, and supposed to know all of the fine points of the builder’s warranty.

"Wow, they sent me a specialist," you might think to yourself. That’s like a gynecologist. A Warranty Specialist must have to go through a lot of training, too. Only you find out that he’s been working as a Warranty Specialist for two days, and last week he was a Builder’s Assistant. An Assistant! Your better nature tells you that he’s a working stiff, and it’s not his fault that he doesn’t know if the warranty transfers from the original owner to you. He’s only been on the job for a couple of days, after all.

You’re just sure that Mr. Feelgood will call you back after you leave him enough messages to creep out even the most adamant stalker. You wait by the phone like a sulky girlfriend and hope that they'll fix the drain in the Master Bathroom, because you really don't want to share a tub with your husband. After a couple of days the tub always looks like he was bathing monkeys in there.