Jillian Michaels may not know it, but she is in for a fight.
You may remember her as the tough talking celebrity trainer who dished out dime store psychology and sage advice about losing weight, "No more chocolate chip cookies."
Jillian is often seen on late night television hawking the incredible 40% incline Nordictrack Treadmill. I have no familiarity with this particular product. However, 6 months ago I purchased a stationary bike from the very same Nordictrack company, a subsidiary of Icon Health & Fitness.
I will not bore you with all the details, but the machine is now nothing more than unprocessed landfill.
It is an $800 useless lump of Chinese nuts, bolts and ball bearings. The technician, who has been to my house on three separate visits, has no idea what is wrong with it. And has literally told me, "Mr. Siegel, it's a piece of shit."
Manufacturing flaws are one thing. But I reserve my greatest ire for the Icon Health and Fitness Customer Service Representatives. The phone trees, the corporate hold music and the buck-shifting are enough to make my hair fall out. And I'm bald.
On several occasions I was told to wait and put on hold. The representatives never picked up the phone again. They believe they can wear people out with apathy.
Maybe some people. But not me.
I'm not ruling out a three day road trip to their Logan, Utah corporate headquarters just to dump the mangled machine on their front lawn. But right now I'm focusing all my attention on Jillian Michaels. And her Facebook page. And her Twitter account. And her Los Angeles celebrity appearances.
If I can force Jillian to get on the phone with her Nordictrack liaison, I believe I can extract the full refund I am due. It's a jailhouse maneuver. But apropos considering this company's criminal negligence.
Perhaps you'd like to see what I'm talking about:
Here's another sample:
And one more:
As of yet, Jillian, nor her handlers have caught on. So I'm going to re-double my efforts. After all, everyday my posts remain on her site I believe Nordictrack buyers are sent scurrying for the doors.
And if they won't give me back my money, I'll gladly take some of theirs.