I finally spent some real money on a Calphalon pan at Williams-Sonoma earlier this year and it recently went to pot, so to speak. The bottom coating kept coming off every time I wiped it dry with a towel and the bacon burnt no matter how slow I cooked it and eggs totally stuck to it and it’s a pain in the tukus to clean now and I’m pissed because the first time I really pull out my wallet for a pan, it’s goes bad faster than any other one I’ve owned.

My kitchen stuff is usually purchased at Bed, Bath and Beyond with an expired 20% off coupon. I don’t remember how much I spent on this one, I just remember it being more than what I would normally spend. And at Williams-Sonoma! The Tiffany of kitchenware. The Tiffany at which you can actually have breakfast. Because lotsa times when you go there, they are often making cookies or something.

Anyway, when I burnt my bacon for the umpteenth time yesterday, I got all fired up and decided I would march right over to Williams-Sonoma that very same day and meekishly demand satisfaction.

I hate demanding satisfaction. I never ask for anything. I never send food back at a restaurant. I just can’t. I have no guts for that sort of thing. I’d rather just never go back. I don’t know where this mortifying fear of rejection comes from, and that’s what it is, because I can’t stand the thought of asking for something, even if it’s totally justified and reasonable, and having someone tell me no. It’s so horrifying. I’d never have made it as a guy, except for the Sadie Hawkins dance, maybe.

But, dag nabbit! I was really frustrated about this pan. Why should this pan totally suck? It seemed so unfair. I tried to take good care of it, never cooking bacon with a fork, always clipping BOTH monkeys’ toenails before letting them play in the kitchen cupboards, and limiting Timmy, the neighbor boy, from taking the pots and pans out for his one-man band busquing down on K Street to no more than once a week. You know, real proper kitchenware care.

I envisioned crawling into Willams-Sonoma on my hands and knees and apologize for being born and is this expensive pan really supposed to act this way and if it is, I was just wondering thank you for your time.

I was also worried about going just before they close on the Sunday night of Black Friday weekend, the biggest shopping weekend of the year. Not exactly good timing. Those employees were going to be exhausted and not the least bit patient and generous and what was I thinking?

I wasn’t thinking.

I changed out of my sweatshirt and took a shower and did my hair and put on a nice sweater and earrings and even though people aren’t supposed to judge you on how you look, I also once heard that you should dress the way you want to be treated.

I was giggly and nervous with the greeter as I walked into the store (because apparently my method of portraying a dissatisified customer is to turn into a tittering idiot). I was then escorted to a cashier and I explained my conundrum as best I could and tried not to apologize for living or disturbing her and tried not to sound so defensive about taking good care of the pan even though she didn’t even ask about that and no, I didn’t have a receipt and they couldn’t look up my purchase history and then the cashier said she was going to get their kitchen specialist, which I took to mean that some large aproned woman named Olga would drag me to a dark storage room and interrogate me with a single light bulb shining over my head while she smacked one hand with a Martha Stewart marble rolling pin.

What the cashier actually said was that she’d get the specialist to come over and explain what could have gone wrong with the pan, but meanwhile here’s another pan.

What???? Really????

I think the cashier backed away to find the specialist rather quickly because she saw the glint in my eye that normally precedes extreme hugging and kissing of the utmost gratitude. Which was probably best for both of us, really, now that I think about it.

I don’t know if you can tell the difference, but here was the pan I returned:

And here’s the new one.

The specialist actually consulted with me about the pan, and he went on to explain that de-adonization had occurred and chemical dipping and harsh abrasives and blah blah blah, but I inquired about the best way to take care of this “dishwasher safe” “non-stick” pan and I’ll pass these tips on to you for when you buy your own “dishwasher safe” “nonstick” pan.

1. Even though it says “dishwasher safe”, do not put them in the dishwasher. The detergents are very abrasive and will wear out your pan a lot faster.

2. Do not use the scratchy side of the sponge when you wash it by hand.

3. Do not use a wire brush, but plastic brushes are okay.

I’ll add my own here and tell you not to cook your bacon with a fork. Not that I did, mind you. I’m just telling YOU not to. I forgot to ask the specialist if I should keep the monkeys out of the cupboards.

So there you go. I love Williams-Sonoma. My heart now beats only for Williams-Sonoma. I mean, how can you not fall for a kitchen store that sells Happy Goat Caramels at the counter?