My Dyson DC-40 wasn’t working properly, and I called their support line. I was told to bring it to a local repair shop and they’d fix it, no charge. I hoisted the machine into the trunk of my car (no easy feat for a lightweight like me), hauled it into the shop and the repairman turned it on, shrugged and said, “It’s working now. There’s nothing I can do.” I hauled it back into and then out of the trunk. A week later, it was dead. Dyson agreed to have it shipped to their own repair place, which required another lifting in and out of the trunk to the nearby UPS store. 15 minutes ago, the vacuum arrived back at my place (happily this time straight to my door) and it took me an eternity to pry the machine loose from the shipping box. It’s at times like this that I most want a husband.