Rock the Kasbah... But Stone the Kasbahouse

For Christmas last year I thought I'd surprise DH with a pasta maker. He's mentioned eleventy-seven times how he'd love to have one, and let's face it - giving him a pasta maker means him making pasta that I get to enjoy. HELLO brilliant idea!

Now, the difficult part was finding one. Keep in mind we live in the middle of nowhere. There are no specialty kitchen shops to go poking around in, no large department store that could possibly have one... nada. Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Zero.

Enter the internet.

Ahhhhh... I love the internet. I would wrap it in bacon and eat it if I could. I swear it. A day without the internet for me is... is... well, I don't want to even talk about such a tragedy. Anyhoo, me and my beloved internet did some searchin' and researchin' to find just the right pasta maker for DH. I probably knew every pro and con there was to know about pasta makers before I stumbled across a specialty shop on Amazon called Kasbahouse. They import all sorts of items directly from Italy. I had a light bulb moment: Heyyyy... don't they make pasta in Italy? Ding! Ding! I think we found our winner! After dancing around in my nightgown and throwing out my shoulder from patting myself on the back, I placed an order for an Imperial Pasta Maker. It just sounded so... so... imperial. I was impressed with myself. And, by gosh, I just knew DH was going to be impressed with me, too.

And you know what? I was right! DH was so excited he hardly waited before he started cranking out his very first batch of lingui-SNAP! What the....?! It. Broke.

*sobbing at the memory*

Now, I've never had a lick of trouble from anything I've ever bought off Amazon. Not even an iota. But I'd say this qualified as a doozy. After sobbing uncontrollably (who wouldn't after being denied pasta, folks) I contacted Kasbahouse.

*crickets chirping*

Either Kasbahouse didn't understand the vastness of our pasta-making tragedy, or they were inundated with hundreds (millions?!) of other customer concerns the same as ours. Turns out it was a little of both. When they finally got back to me, you won't believe the reason they gave me for the defective item. Are ya sittin' down? Because they blamed Italy. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it's Italy's fault there is a problem with my pasta machine.

Who knew? Who knew Italy was that vindictive. That they will stop at no costs to ruin any non-Italy-visitin' pasta dinner. What a bunch of...

Now waitaminute. *scrolling up* Yeah, that's what I thought. Those Kasbahouse people reeled me in with the "it's from Italy" sales line in the first place. And now they are using 'it's from Italy' as a scapegoat. I don't know about you, but they can't have it both ways. No way. Nuh-uh. Not in my book, folks.

Well, that was three months ago. Still no replacement pasta maker. When they said they'd send one, the time frame they gave was, "We aren't sure. You know it has to come from Italy, right?" (muttering) The sum-bastages. And, since I was gullible enough to give Kasbahouse the benefit of the doubt, there is no longer any recourse through Amazon. All because I was suckered in by one slick line: It's from Italy.

blogger's note: I want to clarify that I still love, love, love Amazon and they have in no way let me down... all my angst and hatred is directed at Kasbahouse. So if you are ever in the market for anything pasta-ish or Italian-esque, steer clear of purchasing from Kasbahouse. Like the title of my post today says: Rock the Kasbah... but stone the Kasbahouse.