Extended warranties. Those horribly awkward conversations with the “business managers” at auto dealerships, where maximum pressure sales are applied, and negotiations become stressful and long. How polite do I need to be, and how long must I listen to the sales pitch and the hugely inflated ask at the end to be polite? It’s a dance I always hate. It’s well known that these items are where dealerships make the most profit, which is why they’re so heavily pushed.
Over the last few years, I’ve seen these extended warranties be pushed more and more frequently outside of the auto industry. Occasionally, it even works. I mean, I do pay monthly for AppleCare insurance on my iPhone to replace the screen should I drop it. I have never dropped a phone (touch wood). I justify the small expense because the phone is extremely critical to my life, a fast, efficient repair is worth the money, and replacing the entire phone is expensive.
The one place I’ve seen these warranties pop up that I have a harder time with is furniture. We purchased new couches last year, and it came with the hard sell on a hefty premium to insure them for a number of years. Odd, as I’ve never had a catastrophic failure of a couch or bed. And I can’t remember the last time a chair failed and dumped me on my rear.
This weekend reminded me of this craze. I went to a big-box office supply store in a nearby city because I needed a new, armless task chair for my recently rebuilt music studio, and my previous armchair was starting to delaminate. Armless chairs are important for playing guitar, and, like shoes, purchasing one without trying it on is ill-advised.
The big-box store, Staples, coincidentally had a sale on in-stock chairs, so along with the inexpensive studio chair, I also purchased a new chair for my analog writing desk - this one comfortable and high-backed, as I do like to nap in it between spurts of inspiration, or, to be honest, just to avoid things like work.
Armless task chairs are surprisingly rare, but I found an inexpensive one that was on sale for $99.99. The other chair was still a very reasonable $179.99. Given that both are task-specific and unlikely to be used for an hour or so per day, and often not even daily, I felt these were good value for the money.
On the way to the cashier, I was waylaid by a floor assistant’s extended warranty sales pitch. And then this happened again when I got to the actual cashier. I do have to hand it to Staples that their training program on warranties is pretty extensive, as I had two different employees recite the same speech about the benefits of purchasing this warranty that my lucky chairs “qualified” for.
Fair enough. Everyone had a job to do. I remained polite and let the employee recite the spiel, as dealing with the public is a tough job that I wouldn’t enjoy. What blew me away was the high price of the warranty on these chairs, which I guess justifies the corporate-mandated hard sell.
For the inexpensive Staples-branded armless task chair, the cost of the three-year extended warranty was $15, or 15% of the purchase price. However, hold your beer: the warranty on the other chair costs $49.99, which is almost a 28% premium!
Unsurprisingly, I declined, and I’m sure I will be fine living with the consequences of such an expensive risk.
But the best part was when I was assembling those chairs in the evening and reading the manual. Both chairs come with a 7-year warranty on any part. So, what would I be paying extra for the 3-year extended warranty? Peace of mind, I guess. The “easy-button”?
But a company selling an extended warranty that duplicates the manufacturer’s pre-existing warranty. That’s pretty scammy. Come on, Staples, you can do better than that.