Some people don’t know how to sell air (time)
To each appliance its own time to fail. Today, the vacuum cleaner. No more sucking up the dirt and moving on to the next household emergency. I jiggled the hose. I reseated the connector. I gave up and went to see the specialist.
OK, he may not actually be a specialist, but he does work in the store where we bought the system (central air unit). He took his trusty screwdriver, checked the connections, agreed with me that things looked fine, so it had to be a fault in the little wire that ran from alpha to omega. Speaking Greek costs money; a new hose set me back just less than $130, but I now have (another) three year guarantee, a fancier trigger guard and a happier family. Money well spent.
While I stored my new purchase in the car, the better half wandered into a nearby cellphone boutique. A real “store”, not a kiosk. Staffed by more specialists. My designated agent was aptly named “In Training”. No, we didn’t get signed into an ironclad contract for yet another cell. He barely managed to bring up coverage maps. Did you know that Souris has in-town coverage, but as soon as you go up the hill…
We were on a roll. Down the corridor to another “store”. Little matter that this one used to be a real electronic shop, but that now exists only because the closing bell hasn’t rung. The clerk couldn’t have sold us air in a vacuum (and this has nothing to do with vacuum cleaners, in passing).
Here we are, only days away from needing a third cellphone. Time to head back and see that woman at the mother ship corporate store. She could probably sell us anything she wanted, just like before.
