Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Repairman Etiquette (or phantom post)

Our fridge broke in September. And then it fixed itself. And then it broke and fixed itself again in November, December, January, January again, and then February. In February we finally called a repairman. This wasn’t the first time we called a repairman. Back in September we called a guy who came out for 3.5 minutes, said he couldn’t do anything and then charged us $69. But this was my first real-life repairman (Derek met the last one) and let me tell you, it was a little awkward. If there is a proper way to host a repairman in one’s home, I certainly don’t know it.
Do You:

(A) Welcome him to your home, offer him a refreshing beverage, introduce him to the errant appliance and then chitchat with him about his former life as a minor league baseball player while he cheerfully repairs your appliance?
(B) Open the door, ask him what took so long, tell him you’re paying him good money and he better not waste any time diddle dawdling in his fancy toolbox and going out to his truck twelve times. Then do you sit yourself down on a stool two feet away and warn him that he better not try to steal anything because you’ll be watching?
(C) Ask him in, apologize for your kitchen not being spick-and-span, give him a lengthy and detailed account of your appliance’s misbehavior – complete with sound effects, chat about Cache Valley weather (Sure is wintery this winter) and then retreat awkwardly to another part of the house to make yourself busy doing who-knows-what because you’re never home during the day and really have no idea what normal people do at home in the daytime, especially when there is strange man down the hall in your kitchen. Then do you keep contriving reasons to casually walk past or through the kitchen just in case you really should be out there and not hiding in your bedroom with the TV turned down low?

I chose C. And, seriously, I felt like I was at a seventh grade dance, hiding in the girl’s bathroom because I saw that weird kid from Home Room doggedly hunting down every girl in the school and asking her to dance. But just like when the repairman came, I couldn’t stay in there forever; periodically the other gawky, brace faced girls and I would feel compelled to dart out into the danger zone just in case another more acceptable boy wanted to dance. I’m pretty sure the repair guy wouldn’t have asked me to dance, but if he had I probably would have panicked and said yes.


Kate said...

I just try not be home when a repair man drops by, espcially when the toilet is backed up. But I suppose that is one of the few perks of living in an apartment building.

the lunch lady said...

I hear the maytag guy is pretty light on his feet . . .

Jenette said...

That is funny. And to be honest, the scene may change, but stake dances never do. I just went to a stake sponsered dance at my university stake and sure enough, I found myself hiding from that repulsive guy who flirts with all the girls, and just generally makes me want to die. It was as awkward as I always remembered. I'm sorry waiting for the repairman was in the same spirit.