My oven is broken.
“Again?”I can imagine you asking. Or: “Wait a minute. I’ve already read this blog entry!”
Actually, my oven is STILL broken. It’s been inoperable for about a week now because, apparently, that’s how long it takes the average Vancouver Maytag repairman to clear his busy schedule. One week. Can you imagine how backed up they must be, no doubt attending to a veritable sea of disabled Maytag products? A far cry from this lonely fellow:
So, last week, I booked an appointment for this week. I cleared my entire day because, as you all know, they can never give you an exact time for when they’ll drop by. Or maybe they simply won’t because it heightens the anticipation, sort of like an elusive sneeeze or anxiously awaiting the People’s Choice Award for Favorite Humanitarian. It’s always: “Sometime between nine a.m. and noon.” Or: “Anytime between noon and 5:00 p.m.” Or, in my case: “Thursday.” Then imagine my surprise when my cell phone started ringing at 8:30 a.m. this morning. Was it possible? The best case scenario, all things considered? Were they calling to confirm my address? To inform me that they were enroute? To let me know they were already standing on my front porch, poised to sweep in and address my oven issues? Not exactly.
They were calling to find out what the problem was with my oven. I informed the guy on the other end that none of the buttons were working on the control panel – just as I had informed the woman who had taken my call last week. “Ah, it’s a control panel issue,”he surmised. “I can come by and replace it. Tomorrow.”
Seriously? I had to clear my Thursday schedule so that I could field a call from the Maytag repairman and confirm information I had already relayed to the Maytag representative I’d spoken to a week earlier? No wonder they’re so fucking lonely. No one in their own company will even talk to them.
This doesn’t bode well for tomorrow’s visit. I figure it can go one of a number of ways:
1. He shows up early, sometime in the morning while I’m out.
2. He shows up late, sometime during dinner while we’re eating.
3. He doesn’t show up at all.
4. He doesn’t show up but somebody else phones to ask what the problem is, surmises it’s a control panel issue, and promises to swing by next week, sometime between 5:00 a.m. Monday morning and midnight Friday.
5. He shows up, checks the stove, and realizes it’s not a control panel issue after all and has to reschedule another visit.
6. He shows up, fixes the oven, then suggests I can pay him in hugs.
7. He shows up on time and fixes the oven.
Place yer bets!