Rewinding the Clock
The saga Five O’clock Charlie, my loudly ailing AC took another turn last week, and there was enough drama going on around here to power a week’s worth soap operas--most of which was my own doing.
I was less than thrilled about dropping 300 bucks, preferring to spend that dough on my upcoming vacation, but I couldn’t hack the godawful noise the thing was making, and I was genuinely concerned that it would explode and hurl shrapnel all over my home.
In addition to the expense, a new air conditioner meant redoing a job I thought had been completed and bugging one of my neighbors to install the thing--something I had really hoped to avoid.
He’s a great guy and very agreeable, but I hate bugging people if I can avoid it. Nevertheless, I texted him to request his help.
Looking back, I see that I gave entirely too much attention to this business. Yes, it’s a pain in the neck, but it wasn’t worthy of all the agita I was giving myself.
My father used to tell me that I look for things to worry about and this was a perfect example. I was buying an air conditioner, not a nuclear submarine.
So, one morning I got the notice from Amazon that my new GE AC was on the way and would be delivered before 5 PM.
It was pretty hot that day and I figured, oh, what the hell? I’ll get some more mileage out of Charlie before tossing him in garbage day. I could stand the racket for a little while longer.
Bracing myself for the unholy din that would emanate from this skosabong, I switched Charley on and I stared in amazement.
The thing was working perfectly.
No banging, no clanging, no rattling. Just a nice steady stream of cool air. It was a miracle cure.
“Now, you do this?” I shouted at the inanimate object. "Now, you decide to come back to life, you putz?"
I'm tempted to make some kind of Resurrection wisecrack, but being a good Catholic boy I don't want to risk riling up the Almighty.
The Last Mile
I half-wondered if Charlie had been playing possum this whole time, or maybe he suddenly realized that the mechanical version of the Grim Reaper was on his tail.
And then I got another notice from Amazon saying the new GE was being delivered soon.
I checked the status on my phone again and I saw there was an option for cancelling my order. Seriously? Even at this late hour?
I went through my typical agony act, wondering if I just get the new appliance, which I would undoubtably need sooner or later? Or stick with the old one that seemed to be operating perfectly?
Did I want to be a cheapskate and hold on to device that had definitely seen its best days or waste money on new AC?
Finally, I scrubbed order the new machine and Five O’clock Charlie got a reprieve.
Amazon very kindly held up the order and took the charge off my bill. I don’t like wasting people’s time, but I also don’t like wasting money. And I don’t think I’m going to drive Jeff Bezos onto Skid Row.
I instantly regretted my action. Charlie is going to resume clanking any minute now, I told myself, you’ll have to order a new one and suffer through two more sweltering days without an air conditioner.
Well, it’s been a week and 5 O’clock Charlie is still behaving. The thing is even quieter than his cousin in my bedroom window.
I’m really hoping I made the right decision.
I was at the theater on Saturday, when I noticed that my favorite of dress shoes was in pretty rough shape. A chunk was missing from the toe cap of the right one and both soles were worn.
Due to the pandemic, I hardly wear my good shoes anymore, so I have no idea when or how this damage occurred.
These are my favorite shoes. Comfy, but still dressy. I’ve had them a long time and I’d hate to part with them, but I didn’t think they were worth repairing.
When I got home from the theater I tossed them into the trash.
No reprieve this time.
Comments
Fingers crossed, Bijoux!