Leak Repair

Hose?  Washer?  Not a clue why
There are times when Skeeter can't bail me out.  She stays in the garage hoping I won't notice her until the current crisis has passed.  She's better at calming than rescuing.  For that, I need an animate friend.

My friend Jackie and I have a standing yoga date Tuesday morning at my house.  We're ready to start, when I hear an unfamiliar sound emanate from my washing machine.  I was running a small load before the housekeeper came and expected to hear "washing" sounds in the background.  This was a different, ominous "running" sound.  Jackie went to check for me and, sure enough, water was gushing all over the tile (Thank God) laundry room floor and the hardwood (uh-oh) hallway floor.  The good news is that there were two big towels handy and Jackie threw those down.  The bad news–this disaster required more towels and they were outside in the pool room.  Jackie went out to get them, while I stayed uselessly in the house.  The pool room is overstuffed with things and when I heard a crash from there, I could only pray it was a thing and not Jackie.  Thankfully, she soon came in (body intact) with an armload of towels.  Between towels and a squeejee, Jackie mopped up the flood before the floors were damaged.

Household mishaps are a big enough headache under normal circumstances.  When you have limited mobility, it really sucks.  I was grateful to have an able-bodied person there with me, but it was hard to be unable to do anything physical to help.  Then it occurred to me that I could get on the phone and call the store we had purchased the washer/dryer from to get repair service.
Hiss, hiss, hiss

Since my slurred speech sounds worse over the phone, I have to plan out what I'm going to say in advance.  I shouldn't have bothered.  Directory Assistance (4-1-1) charged me to dial the number and still didn't get it right.  The computer yielded three different contact numbers, but they all went to the same recorded call.  None of them directed me to repair (push one if...).  You know the routine, so I won't bother detailing the exchange.   This made the airline recorded call (previous post) seem positively chatty.

I could feel my wicked witch side emerging and my language deteriorating.  Finally, I was able to speak to a helpful young man who was nice enough not to disconnect me in the transfer to repair scheduling.  After having spent a fruitless hour on the phone and computer, I was so grateful to talk to a live person.  I didn't care what country he was responding from.  His speech was a lot better than mine.  The earliest a repairman could get there was the next day, so I jumped at that.  Then I went for a calming scoot.

The lesson:  It's always something.  @&*% happens.



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