What a crock of crap

My mom gave me a Hamilton Beach slow cooker a couple of years ago.  Sometime last year I noticed that the glaze had crazed.  I've seen crazed pottery in the past and so I didn't think anything about it.

However, the next time I took it out to use it, I opened it to discover mold.  The mold was growing from between the teeny cracks caused by the crazing.  It was white and powdery.  So weird.

I filled the moldy crock with hot water, added a splash of bleach, and left it to sit overnight.  The next day I cleaned it thoroughly with hot, sudsy water, and left it to air dry for a few days on the counter.  Then I put it away.

A while later, I took it out of the cupboard to find that the mold had grown back.

Stupid ass mold.

I bitched and moaned a lot to my mom about that moldy crock.

Then I put the crock aside, meaning to write to Hamilton Beach.  My good intentions stretched out over several weeks, which became months.

Christmas came and went, leaving behind a Crock*Pot from my mother.



About two weeks ago, I got it in my craw one day to email Hamilton Beach to complain.  I took a ton of photos of the mold, submitted my complaint online, readied myself for a fight, and waited.
 
The next day there was an email from Customer Service: "We're sending you a new crock.  It should arrive in a few weeks."  Days later I found a large box on my front porch. 
 
Moral of the story: complain to customer service before complaining to Mom.  Kudos to Hamilton Beach for taking care of me!
 
The old slow cooker is going to a friend of mine.  As soon as I remember to put it in my car and take it to work, that is.