Wait!
Before you pick up the phone to dial that 800 number to buy that piece of exercise equipment, check your TV screen to see if it says “assembly required” in fine print somewhere or if the hostess happens to mention it in passing.
If you don’t, you might want to reconsider, especially if you’re as inept as I am when it comes to reading diagrams to put things together.
A few weeks ago, on a Sunday morning, my mom calls. Now, there’s one of three reasons she’s calling so early on a Sunday, all involving the TV: 1. There’s a sermon she wants me to hear; 2. There’s something on CBS Sunday Morning she wants me to watch; or 3. There’s a sporting event coming up that I might not know about.
But she threw me off this time because it was none of the above. She wanted me to tune into HSN. Not familiar with the channel, I was having trouble finding it, and she was running out of patience. She was afraid I’d miss the demonstrations and testimonials.
Demonstrations and testimonials? That meant only one thing — HSN was featuring some type of exercise equipment along with “real people” who have used the equipment and found “great success.”
In other words, they’ve lost weight.
She’s like my dog with his toys — he’s not going to let go until the bitter end, and she’s not going to stop nagging me about being overweight. She informed me the other day that the reason I’m overweight is because I eat nothing but junk.
Real nice, huh? Moms just never give up, do they? Hence the reason she wanted to know my feelings about the Performa Elliptical being advertised. After all, the demonstrations and testimonials were so convincing.
“If I bought this for you, would you use it?” she asked.
I seriously had to think about it. I’d heard nothing but horror stories about ellipticals and how tough they were — tough as in really giving your body a workout.
Finally, I agreed.
The torture device was delivered a couple of weeks later. Thank goodness for kindly deliverymen. The size of the box was deceiving. It was so heavy, I couldn’t budge it.
The truck driver was nice enough not only to put it in the garage, but he wheeled it all the way into the room in the basement where I would be setting it up. A shout out to that guy for sure.
I’m not kidding when I say I couldn’t budge it. I had to open it on the spot. The machine was in what seemed to be a million pieces. “Oh, great,” I thought. Then, I found the assembly instructions. “Oh, $@!%,” I said.
It was like reading Chinese. My disappointment was palpable. Seriously.
The first person I thought of that could help me was Sam. My friend Jody lends him out to me whenever I need a man to help me around the house. But Sam’s hands have been bothering him, so I considered other options.
I called the company, which provided another 800 number in case the purchaser needed help. They wanted $200 up front. Two-hundred dollars on top of what the machine already cost. It was ludicrous. Then, they said I would have to wait three to five business days just to set up an appointment. And it was anybody’s guess when the actual appointment would be scheduled.
It all sounded suspicious to me. Thank goodness my bank account didn’t cover that amount. And thank goodness Sam agreed to help.
The task seemed daunting to me. But Sam knows what he’s doing. I’d even been afraid to take anything out of the box. He made it look so easy and got everything organized.
He and Jody worked as a team. Me, all I was good for was handing out tools, washers, nuts and bolts.
Assembling the elliptical took the tag team only 2 1/2 hours.
Naturally, each one of us had to try the thing out. First Sam, whose knees creaked the entire time. Then Jody, whose legs felt like wet noodles. And me. I barely made it past two minutes. I was huffing and puffing away.
I celebrated later by ordering a cheese pizza.
Deb Saine is a columnist for the Pharos-Tribune. She can be reached through the newspaper at ptnews@pharostribune.com
