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Ginohn Abhors a Vacuum
Repairman
J: On Saturday I went to the Days of Knights game store
with Bruce to visit Chris and play games. I played two games of Puerto
Rico (and won one), two games of Das
Amulett (and won one), two games of Clans (and won one), and two
games of Werewolf
(and, yes, I won one as a werewolf). Not bad, compared to the average.
My favorite of the bunch is Puerto Rico, but I'd like to explore Clans
some more.
We're
attempting to not eat out this month, but we've made a few exceptions.
Tuesday was my Mom's birthday, so I picked up Gina at lunchtime
and we drove to Bethesda to meet up with some familia and celebrate at
a cheap Italian place. It was good to see Mom. She's looking very
healthy, and spoke enthusiastically about turning 63. I think she's the
only person I've ever heard who sounded happy about 63. She's sweet.
Ken's
girlfriend Jessica is visiting from Boston, and they wanted to go out
to dinner with us. Jessica is a vegetarian too. We picked up Kory and
went to Noodles & Co. in downtown College Park, one of our favorite
almost fast food almost classy joints. Afterward we played Beyond
Balderdash, and I lost miserably, but had plenty of fun.
The saga of the vacuum cleaner: Our vacuum cleaner has been
working nicely for a few years. It's small but powerful, and only cost
about 40 bucks practically new. On Friday it stopped running. I thought
we'd just buy another but Gina wanted to see if we could get it
repaired (save on landfill space and all that). Yesterday she called a
nearby repair shop. The guy who answered the phone told her that not
only would she get a free repair estimate, but he could pick up the
vacuum and drop it off for free too. "Great!" said Gina, and left the
vacuum on the doorstep.
Later the
guy called back to tell her how much it would cost to repair - about
170 dollars. Gina said she was pretty sure she could get a new one for
less, so she told the guy she'd call back. I should note here that
throughout several telephone conversations (he called back a few times)
he had a quick, smarmy sales banter, and when things weren't going his
way he made little effort to conceal his disappointment. Every time
Gina moved to get off the phone to think about her options, he would
attempt to keep her on, using used car salesmen techniques: "What'll it
take to fix this vacuum?"
We quickly
found an on-line vacuum cleaner store that had the exact brand and
model for less than a hundred bucks, including shipping. Gina called
the repair guy back and told him that since we could get a new one for
less than a hundred dollars, with a new HEPA filter and a one year
warranty, it didn't make sense to repair our old one. He tried to
fast-talk, saying the on-line place was probably a "fly-by-night
business" and she shouldn't trust them. Gina apologized for the trouble
and refused the repair work. "I'll come by and pick it up tomorrow,"
she said.
Ten or
twenty minutes later Repair Guy called back, and told her that since he
had taken the vacuum apart and put it back together, she owed him
twenty dollars for labor. "Wait, I thought you said the estimate was
free," said Gina. Repair Guy said something about the estimate being
free but that there was still a charge for labor. "So, the free
estimate isn't really free?" asked Gina, incredulous. Repair Guy said
she could take that offer; or he could fix the vacuum for $89.95(!);
or, if she didn't take either offer, he would just throw the vacuum
away. Gina said, "I'll call you back."
She hung up
and we sat there and stared at each other for a while. "He's a bad
man," I said, among other things. We very quickly agreed that we didn't
want to do any business
with that company. We decided to cut our losses and leave the stolen broken vacuum with
the thief
repair man, and order the new one from the "fly-by-night" on-line
company. We agreed that Repair Guy would probably fix and sell the
hostage vacuum, but we didn't want to stress out over it. It only cost
40 dollars and we got more than two years of work from it. It's funny
how at the beginning of the evening he was talking about what a nice
vacuum we had, then in the end he was saying he'd throw it out, because
it was "dead." Gina called him back and said no thanks, keep the vacuum.
Then I made
the mistake of talking to my ex-cop brother on the phone. (Tangent:
remember that show on Saturday Night Live with the original cast,
called Ex Cops? That was a funny show.) I jokingly told Thom that I was
thinking of going with a witness down to the repair shop in a few days,
and ask if they could give me a free estimate to repair my broken
vacuum. If they said yes I could present the repair ticket and say,
"can I have my vacuum back, then?" Thom didn't sound very interested in
my idea, and it seemed like he was in a hurry, so I wrapped up the chat.
Ten minutes
later he called back asking for the address of the repair place. The
words Uh oh went quickly
through my head. He didn't sound like he was in a good mood. It's not
good to make an ex cop angry -- I remembered that from Saturday Night
Live. I tried to tell him it was OK, we didn't want to deal with that
company anymore, we were "cutting our losses," but he wouldn't take it.
"Just give me the address," he said. So I gave him the address. He
called me back ten minutes after that to ask for the number on the
repair ticket.
And so, to
cut a long story short by eliminating the gory details, we have our
40-dollar broken vacuum cleaner back. (Well, actually Thom has it back
and he's asking 20 bucks for it, but I'm pretty sure he's joking.) I
still worry that we'll spend a few months looking over our shoulders
for Repair Guy every time we leave the house. He doesn't sound like a
reasonable man. But Thom has assured us that the Vacuum Mafia has no
interest in us. "You knew when to cut your losses," he said, "they do
too."
And now for something
completely different: Our cat Mango caught another flying squirrel tonight, and
brought it in. The squirrel looked dead. I grabbed a paper towel to
pick her up, but she wasn't dead, and so the chase ensued. As I've
previously noted in our log, flying squirrels are very elusive
creatures. She ran behind a shelf unit and while I tried to get Mango
out of the way the squirrel made a dash for the freedom of the rest of
the house, but Booda chased her back to the shelves. I started to take
things off the shelves, which just allowed Mango to climb farther back
in the shelves to finish her hunt.
I grabbed
Mango and locked her outside, and returned to the scene with a clear
mouse carrying cage that we have for just such emergencies, wishing
Gina was here to help. (She was at work.) I told Booda to back off,
which he very politely did, and I continued to work through the
shelves. The squirrel made another dash for it and ran into Booda
again. Seeing Booda, she promptly turned back toward me, and ran right
up my leg, luckily on the outside of
my pants.
Remembering
what my Grandfather Kendall had said about flying squirrels, I stood
very still. Grandpa used to catch all sorts of critters when he was a
boy, including (but not limited to) bats, lizards, snakes, and flying
squirrels. He said that a bat or flying squirrel would often struggle
for a few seconds after he caught it. "But eventually," he said, "you
could put it in your pocket, and it was like you were a piece of the
furniture. It would hang out there for hours, poking its head out every
now and then to see where it was. We'd take them to school."
I started
slowly toward the door, talking quietly, saying things like, "I'm going
to take you outside now, just hang on, buddy," and the little squirrel
continued its climb up my back. I finally got to the door, which Mango
was scratching at from the other side. I opened the door and Mango came
racing past me, to the shelves. I closed the door behind me and walked
outside in my socks, toward the garden. Miss Squirrel had by this time
made it up to my shoulder. I stopped and said, "OK, you're free," or
something like that. She leaped and glided into the dark garden. I came
back in, hoping Mango hadn't injured her too bad. I didn't see any
blood though, and she seemed to move quickly, so I think she's OK. I'll
keep the pet door closed for the night.
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