The Continuing Saga
Jun. 21st, 2006 11:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pixkrisOh give me a home where the chilled air does blow,
And the cats do not pant on the floor,
Where seldom is heard an obscene curse word,
As the heat wafts in the front door...
I am beginning to think I am not meant to have a functional air conditioner.
After finally convincing P. of the necessity of having air conditioning; ascertaining that there is only one exterior wall where AC can be installed; ordering the unit; working out a schedule for repayment from P. and C.; scheduling an appointment for installation; rescheduling the appointment when the unit wasn't delivered in time for the first one; debating with P. about the aesthetic placement of the unit; finally reaching agreement on placement; rearranging the furniture to accommodate said placement; and asking Drew if he'd be willing to camp out at my place on installation day since I would be out of state, you would think that I would have a nicely cooled apartment right now. We've earned it, right?
Apparently no. Apparently I've offended the God of Cooling or the Goddess of All Things Chilled.
A story that will be funny someday—ah hell, it's probably funny to anyone not involved now—behind the cut. For the sake of clarity, all times listed are Pacific.
The local company Sears uses for installations doesn't give specific appointment times until that morning. What they do instead is call you between 7-8 AM to give you a four-hour window later that day during which your AC will finally be installed. Such customer service, I'll tell ya.
Now keep in mind that I am in Connecticut right now. I knew I was going to be completely useless during the events of the day since I was 3000 miles away, not to mention that I've been dealing with my grandmother's illness, seeing my not-quite-ex-husband for the first time in almost a year, and generally just trying to keep my shit together. P. had made a point to say he'd be at the house when the AC went in, however, so I wasn't too worried about Drew having to deal with too many details. That's the property owner's job, after all.
At 7 this morning I got a call saying that the installers would be at my house between 3-7PM. Already, that seemed odd. Most businesses tend to operate during business hours, right? This meant that Drew had slept overnight in my sweltering apartment for no reason. Great. I called to give him the news, which he took graciously all things considered, and asked him to relay the time frame to P. At this point Drew also labeled my house a "pit of boredom" because the internet was down due to a bad DSL connection in the (locked) main house, and my satellite dish had now completely lost signal. So, um...no internets or television as well as no AC.
Around 4:30 or 5, I got another call. The installers had been double-booked by dispatch and were running significantly behind schedule. They now estimated that they would arrive between 5-8. They also asked if they were going to have to cut a hole in the wall or if one already existed. Um. Guys? Shouldn't you know that already? “No,” I told them, “no hole exists. That's why I scheduled installation.”
Again, I called Drew, who was understandably getting frustrated. At this point he'd lost most of his day to sitting around an unventilated sweatbox with no tv or internet, and now he had to cancel an evening business meeting. I apologized and thanked him again. He told me that P. was going to have to leave, but they'd had a good talk and were on the same page about placement.
About an hour later, the phone rang again. This time it was Drew, sounding frantic. "C. just called...she said that P. forgot to give me the money for the install? What money? I thought it was pre-paid! I don't have money on me, they can't get back out here to give it to me until tomorrow morning, and I can't leave to go get some in case the installers show up."
Oh. Fuck.
I'd forgotten to tell Drew that P. was supposed to pay the remaining balance owed on the installation when they arrived—about $125. This would not have been a problem if the installers had come on schedule, but now P. was gone and Drew was trapped. After a short discussion, we agreed that he should call our friend Tina to see if she could come babysit the apartment while he went out to get cash to cover the expense. Luckily Tina agreed and Drew was able to get the cash. Another obstacle down.
A couple more hours went by. I got a text from Drew: "This is getting ridiculous. I'm betting they don't get here until 8." A half hour later, another text arrived: "Or maybe after 8."
I am in so much trouble, I thought to myself.
It was nearly 9PM before they finally arrived. Longest day of the year or not, it was pitch black at that point. There was no way that they could see to cut the hole. Bigger hurdle, however? They needed to get into the neighbor's yard (which you may remember from my post about my cat's ill-fated adventure), and they couldn't do that without express permission from neighbor lady. They also couldn't do it with her two mangy dogs prowling about in the pitch darkness (also featured in aforementioned LJ post).
So 14 hours after the initial phone call, the air conditioner was still sitting in a box in my living room as the installers left.
Drew was more than a little annoyed when he called to fill me in on this latest development and to ask what he should do next. The installers had said they would be back at 1PM tomorrow, which meant he was going to have to reschedule his day again, and he didn't know what to do about the neighbor. Apologetically I said that I thought he needed to call P., tell him what had happened, and find out what P. thought we should do about neighbor lady. "I'd do it myself," I added, "but I don't think it makes a lot of sense for me to tell Peter what you told me that the installers told you."
Drew either understood my logic or was too exhausted to try to follow it, so he agreed.
Oh, and did I mention that P. and C. are leaving tomorrow afternoon to fly to Vietnam for their wedding and won't be back in the country until July 9th?
No, I am not making this up.
When Drew called me back a few minutes later, he relayed that P. would call neighbor lady in the morning and would stop by the house to give Drew the installation money and some proof of permission before catching his plane. Apparently there are only two ways into neighbor lady's back yard: crawl over the locked side gate in her driveway or walk through her house. P. described the latter as "something no man should have to do." Besides, she works every afternoon and evening.
So. IF P. gets permission; IF the money gets dropped off; IF the dispatcher doesn't screw up the schedule; IF the installers show up when they're supposed to; IF they are willing to climb over neighbor lady's gate; IF the dogs don't give them rabies; IF they are able to cut the correct-sized hole; and IF the AC unit is not deformed or broken or mysteriously transformed into a lemur...I may have an air conditioned apartment tomorrow night.
And who knows? Drew may eventually be willing to sleep with me again. Someday. If I'm lucky and the lemur doesn't bite him when they shove it into the hole in the wall and try to make it cool the house.
And the cats do not pant on the floor,
Where seldom is heard an obscene curse word,
As the heat wafts in the front door...
I am beginning to think I am not meant to have a functional air conditioner.
After finally convincing P. of the necessity of having air conditioning; ascertaining that there is only one exterior wall where AC can be installed; ordering the unit; working out a schedule for repayment from P. and C.; scheduling an appointment for installation; rescheduling the appointment when the unit wasn't delivered in time for the first one; debating with P. about the aesthetic placement of the unit; finally reaching agreement on placement; rearranging the furniture to accommodate said placement; and asking Drew if he'd be willing to camp out at my place on installation day since I would be out of state, you would think that I would have a nicely cooled apartment right now. We've earned it, right?
Apparently no. Apparently I've offended the God of Cooling or the Goddess of All Things Chilled.
A story that will be funny someday—ah hell, it's probably funny to anyone not involved now—behind the cut. For the sake of clarity, all times listed are Pacific.
The local company Sears uses for installations doesn't give specific appointment times until that morning. What they do instead is call you between 7-8 AM to give you a four-hour window later that day during which your AC will finally be installed. Such customer service, I'll tell ya.
Now keep in mind that I am in Connecticut right now. I knew I was going to be completely useless during the events of the day since I was 3000 miles away, not to mention that I've been dealing with my grandmother's illness, seeing my not-quite-ex-husband for the first time in almost a year, and generally just trying to keep my shit together. P. had made a point to say he'd be at the house when the AC went in, however, so I wasn't too worried about Drew having to deal with too many details. That's the property owner's job, after all.
At 7 this morning I got a call saying that the installers would be at my house between 3-7PM. Already, that seemed odd. Most businesses tend to operate during business hours, right? This meant that Drew had slept overnight in my sweltering apartment for no reason. Great. I called to give him the news, which he took graciously all things considered, and asked him to relay the time frame to P. At this point Drew also labeled my house a "pit of boredom" because the internet was down due to a bad DSL connection in the (locked) main house, and my satellite dish had now completely lost signal. So, um...no internets or television as well as no AC.
Around 4:30 or 5, I got another call. The installers had been double-booked by dispatch and were running significantly behind schedule. They now estimated that they would arrive between 5-8. They also asked if they were going to have to cut a hole in the wall or if one already existed. Um. Guys? Shouldn't you know that already? “No,” I told them, “no hole exists. That's why I scheduled installation.”
Again, I called Drew, who was understandably getting frustrated. At this point he'd lost most of his day to sitting around an unventilated sweatbox with no tv or internet, and now he had to cancel an evening business meeting. I apologized and thanked him again. He told me that P. was going to have to leave, but they'd had a good talk and were on the same page about placement.
About an hour later, the phone rang again. This time it was Drew, sounding frantic. "C. just called...she said that P. forgot to give me the money for the install? What money? I thought it was pre-paid! I don't have money on me, they can't get back out here to give it to me until tomorrow morning, and I can't leave to go get some in case the installers show up."
Oh. Fuck.
I'd forgotten to tell Drew that P. was supposed to pay the remaining balance owed on the installation when they arrived—about $125. This would not have been a problem if the installers had come on schedule, but now P. was gone and Drew was trapped. After a short discussion, we agreed that he should call our friend Tina to see if she could come babysit the apartment while he went out to get cash to cover the expense. Luckily Tina agreed and Drew was able to get the cash. Another obstacle down.
A couple more hours went by. I got a text from Drew: "This is getting ridiculous. I'm betting they don't get here until 8." A half hour later, another text arrived: "Or maybe after 8."
I am in so much trouble, I thought to myself.
It was nearly 9PM before they finally arrived. Longest day of the year or not, it was pitch black at that point. There was no way that they could see to cut the hole. Bigger hurdle, however? They needed to get into the neighbor's yard (which you may remember from my post about my cat's ill-fated adventure), and they couldn't do that without express permission from neighbor lady. They also couldn't do it with her two mangy dogs prowling about in the pitch darkness (also featured in aforementioned LJ post).
So 14 hours after the initial phone call, the air conditioner was still sitting in a box in my living room as the installers left.
Drew was more than a little annoyed when he called to fill me in on this latest development and to ask what he should do next. The installers had said they would be back at 1PM tomorrow, which meant he was going to have to reschedule his day again, and he didn't know what to do about the neighbor. Apologetically I said that I thought he needed to call P., tell him what had happened, and find out what P. thought we should do about neighbor lady. "I'd do it myself," I added, "but I don't think it makes a lot of sense for me to tell Peter what you told me that the installers told you."
Drew either understood my logic or was too exhausted to try to follow it, so he agreed.
Oh, and did I mention that P. and C. are leaving tomorrow afternoon to fly to Vietnam for their wedding and won't be back in the country until July 9th?
No, I am not making this up.
When Drew called me back a few minutes later, he relayed that P. would call neighbor lady in the morning and would stop by the house to give Drew the installation money and some proof of permission before catching his plane. Apparently there are only two ways into neighbor lady's back yard: crawl over the locked side gate in her driveway or walk through her house. P. described the latter as "something no man should have to do." Besides, she works every afternoon and evening.
So. IF P. gets permission; IF the money gets dropped off; IF the dispatcher doesn't screw up the schedule; IF the installers show up when they're supposed to; IF they are willing to climb over neighbor lady's gate; IF the dogs don't give them rabies; IF they are able to cut the correct-sized hole; and IF the AC unit is not deformed or broken or mysteriously transformed into a lemur...I may have an air conditioned apartment tomorrow night.
And who knows? Drew may eventually be willing to sleep with me again. Someday. If I'm lucky and the lemur doesn't bite him when they shove it into the hole in the wall and try to make it cool the house.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-06-22 05:33 am (UTC)HEE.
Poor Drew.
no subject
Date: 2006-06-22 05:35 am (UTC)But I can't stop giggling at the absurdity of the whole thing either.
no subject
Date: 2006-06-22 05:51 am (UTC)Just wait until I schedule a shipment of circus fleas and have you wait at my place for them. Or maybe just a crate full of snakes, but only if they ship via airmail.
no subject
Date: 2006-06-22 05:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-22 06:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-22 01:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-22 03:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-22 06:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-22 10:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-22 02:05 pm (UTC)Let's see. . . what else could happen?
There could be a flood!
Or. . . maybe a plague of locusts! Or a lost tribe of Giant Egyptian Cockroaches!
no subject
Date: 2006-06-22 02:42 pm (UTC)I've always liked Sears appliances, but their service? NSM of the good. I've seen this any number of times with other friends. I hope the rest of your trip goes smoothly.
Ohmigod!
Date: 2006-06-22 06:31 pm (UTC)