This blog is translated from its Chinese Version.
Mid-to-late February is the coldest time of the year in Toronto, with temperatures hovering between -7°C and -20°C. Just last weekend, the city was hit by the worst snowstorm in a decade.
Last Monday, exactly ten days ago (today is Wednesday), the heating in our house broke down. Perfect timing! It had actually broken once before in December, but back then, Jim, the elderly neighbor upstairs, and I managed to fix it with the good old “turn it off and on again” method. This time, no such luck. We immediately called the landlord, Keith. After understanding the situation, he quickly reached out to Mercey, the heating company responsible for maintenance. They scheduled a technician for the next day. Keith also kindly offered to cover hotel expenses if needed.
Enter Mercey. Once again, I got to experience firsthand just how inefficient things can be in Canada.
A little background: Mercey is a 50-year-old company specializing in residential heating and cooling. They are based in Scarborough, about 24 km from Rosedale—a 30-minute drive without traffic. The landlord has relied on them for years to install and maintain his heating and cooling systems.
Since 1974, Mersey Heating and Air Conditioning has provided personalized heating, air conditioning, and indoor air quality services to local homeowners across the Greater Toronto Area.
On Monday (Feb 10), Mercey Guy A showed up, gave the boiler a quick once-over, and concluded that a part was broken. And then… he left. Later, he called to inform us that the part had to be shipped from the U.S. and would take 5-7 business days to arrive.
Tuesday (Feb 11), around 2 PM, Mercey Guy B arrived. I thought he was here to fix the heating. Nope. He was just delivering two tiny space heaters, each about the size of an iPad Mini. He had no further information, dropped them off, and left. Too bad those heaters didn’t get along with our outlets—plug them in, and within five minutes, the circuit breaker tripped.
Under my wife’s urging, I rushed after work to buy a pair of wool slippers for Luna and some new batteries for the fireplace. After swapping out the fireplace’s dead batteries, I managed to get it running. The fireplace runs on natural gas, so we could keep it on 24/7, at least making the living room somewhat warm. The bedrooms, however, remained ice-cold.
So, we wanted to activate Plan B: The living room had a heat pump, which could also generate heat. We turned it on and waited ten minutes—nothing but cold air. Clearly, it wasn’t working. The landlord scheduled another Mercey visit for Wednesday to check it out.
We didn’t wait that long. Tuesday night, around 7-8 PM, Mercey Guy C arrived. Judging by his accent, he was likely local, and, surprisingly, the only one who actually seemed competent. He asked about the symptoms, checked the error codes, and despite the freezing cold, climbed a ladder outside to inspect the unit. Within about ten minutes, he confirmed the problem: a refrigerant leak had caused the pipes to freeze. It couldn’t be fixed immediately—specialists would have to come the next day.
Wednesday (Feb 12), Mercey Guys D and E showed up. But instead of jumping into work, they sat in their truck for 20 minutes before getting out. They tinkered around for an hour, then went back to the truck to rest. Fair enough, lunchtime. Half an hour later, they resumed work, only to come back and tell me: “It’s too cold. We can’t pump the refrigerant in. It won’t reach the required pressure. We’ll come back when it’s warmer.” And just like that, they left. Meanwhile, the weather kept getting colder, and waves of snowstorms kept coming.
Jim, the neighbor upstairs, was lucky. He and his wife had planned a trip to Florida for Wednesday. They only had to endure two days of freezing temperatures before escaping to the sunshine.
Fast forward six days. By this point, our entire daily life revolved around the fireplace. Outside, the snowstorms raged on. I was so cold that I started shoveling snow just to warm up. Dig deep enough, and you don’t feel the cold anymore.
Tuesday (Feb 18), new developments. No word on the boiler part, but our hallway radiator decided to give us an update—it cracked from the cold. It had likely started leaking the night before, but I hadn’t noticed until I walked in after work and was hit with a strange smell. At first, I blamed the pork ribs we had cooked, but when I stepped out in the morning, I saw a massive 10+ cm gash in the radiator. Water had leaked out and frozen into a sheet of ice. The smell? Concentrated, industrial-strength North American “wet dog” odor. I immediately checked the rest of the radiators—luckily, no other cracks. I reported the issue to the landlord, who called Mercey for an urgent appointment.
Tuesday afternoon, Mercey Guy F arrived. But surprise—he was here to check the boiler, not the radiator. Oh well, might as well let him take a look. After a quick inspection, he announced, “I’m from the new boiler sales department, not the repair team. Not sure why I was sent here.” Fantastic. After a few phone calls to his supervisors, he apologized and left. Sensing the gravity of the situation, the landlord drove 100 km from his own home to turn on the basement AC and fireplace, hoping to prevent further freezing damage.
Wednesday, Mercey Guy G arrived—presumably to fix the radiator. Instead, he:
- Took photos.
- Measured the radiator.
- Went to the basement and shut off a water valve.
Thankfully, I was working from home! Shortly after he left, the fireplace shut off. Normally, this would be fine—it has an automatic safety shut-off every six hours. But this time, it wouldn’t turn back on. Thinking the batteries had died, I spent $9 on a new pack. Still nothing. Panic. My wife started searching for hotels. Then it hit me—Mercey Guy G had shut off a valve right before the fireplace died. Could it be…? I ran to the basement. Sure enough, he had shut off the GAS line.
If I hadn’t caught it, here’s what would have happened:
- We would’ve checked into a hotel, making daily school commutes a nightmare.
- The landlord would’ve lost over $1,000 in hotel costs.
- Once the weather warmed, Mercey would return, unscrew the broken radiator, and BOOM—flooded house.
So, after ten days, let’s review:
- Seven Mercey technicians (A, B, C, D, E, F, G) came for six visits.
- They drove 24 km back and forth each time. Who knows how they bill for this?
- They fixed absolutely nothing—not the boiler, not the heat pump, not even the radiator.
- A supposedly “valuable” boiler part still hasn’t arrived in ten days. Ever heard of expedited shipping? Planes? Cars?
- The space heaters they gave us tripped the breaker. What quality!
- The fireplace? I had to diagnose and maintain it myself. In this place, you can only rely on yourself.
- The bedroom is still freezing. We moved our daughter’s bed into ours and piled on every blanket we could find. On the coldest nights, I slept in thermal leggings and a Uniqlo down jacket.
No Mercy from Mercey. Right now, huddled by the fireplace, I miss my home country. I miss the workers, the efficiency, the express deliveries, and the warmth of Hangzhou’s spring.
Mercey still needs to come at least three more times: once for the radiator, once for the boiler, and once for the heat pump. But do I believe they’ll fix everything in just three visits? Absolutely not.
In two more weeks, Toronto’s temperatures will start climbing back toward zero. Until then, we wait, facing Lake Ontario, counting down to the first signs of spring.
