Friday the 13th

My long sabbatical from blogging ended today. Inspiration came from my friend Robyn, who was having a pretty bad day, and appealing to all Facebook pals for some Friendly relief. 

Be forewarned.  This post has nothing to do with my being transgendered. Except to the extent that, if you picture me enacting all this in sandals, cute black T top, and freshly washed hair, I may seem even more pathetic.




Dear Robyn,
aka #needcheeringup;

I have something for your malaise.  An absolutely true story. And it happened today, on Friday the 13th.  Its themes are many and universal:  girl vs. Nature, girl vs. Big Box store, and girl vs. her own Stupidity.

Background:  My old living room AC unit died days ago, during our recent heat wave.  This apartment runs at least 10 degrees hotter than outdoor temps, so today it clocked in around 102 degrees.  I was miserably hot by 9:30 a.m.   But being a clever girl,  yesterday I'd purchased a brand new "portable" AC at Sears, and was ready to just switch it on, and finally enjoy my entire apartment in cool comfort.  Alas, after 2 hours of running at full blast this morning, the new Beast proved instead to be merely a very large, unwieldy $400 fan, albeit with lots of fancy LED lights blinking and flashing impressively.  Reviews on Amazon.com by other unlucky buyers all confirmed it: this was a lemon, and had to go back.

So having lugged all 83 lbs of "portable" AC up three flights yesterday, by myself, I angrily walked over to Sears requesting a refund, and demanding that "someone" remove the darned thing.  Refund is no problem, the sales guy says, but you have to bring it back here yourself.  And I can't hold a replacement unit until you do.  We're down to just a few.  Its this weather, ya know?  Oh, and by the way, my shift ends at 3 p.m.  That gives you ... um ... maybe an hour.

So I sprint for the front door when Lo, the heavens opened, and it started pouring buckets. Torrents. As in, three steps through that deluge and you're totally drenched.  So instead I waited, along with several other women at the front entrance.  This task was made even more pleasant by the the insane rantings of a truly unfortunate soul (TUS) cursing about some small child (real, imaginary?) who'd blocked the front store entrance, thus preventing him from catching the Lawrence 81 bus. Not being quite right, TUS went on and on about this, OCDing his brains out, until the skin on the roof of my mouth seriously began to itch.  Thanks to years of therapy, I did not unleash the fury of my own frustrated wrath.  No, I took a deep breath, whipped out my Blackberry, fired up Bus Tracker, and calmly told him another bus was due in only 5 minutes, and meantime ... would he please just let it go?  Strangely enough, the TUS complied. Smiles all around. When his bus arrived, we all cheered, and somewhere, my therapist finally got her wings.

Finally the horrible rain broke a bit, just enough for me to run back home, dripping with water and sweat.  Racing the clock, I quickly bound up my defective AC with rolls of speaker wire (what we hipsters have instead of Rope) and attempted to delicately lower the big white monstrosity, my own Moby Dick, down the stairs.  Instead, it broke free and crashed down to the first landing. Knowing a good thing when I see one, I smiled, and repeated this formula for the other 4 landings. 

Reaching the front vestibule, another thunderstorm suddenly flashed outside, with serious lightening and thunder, unleashing a second monsoon.  My vestibule was a steamy claustrophobic and miniscule 3 by 5 feet, but there I waited a seemingly interminable time for Storm 2.0 to please, please stop.

I checked the time:  2:50 p.m   Storm 2.0 abated a bit, so I scurried back to Sears, the Beast barely staying on my two wheeler.  Well you just made it, the salesman says.  Despite his pale wit, I ended up buying a second AC from him (window mount, tried and true) mostly because Sears could not refund my money, just give me store credit.  $400 worth of panties, bras, and small tools for Dad? Not likely. 

This new unit then had to be wheeled back home, and then lugged up those three interminable flights, again, one grueling step at a time.  So now, there is a new, shiny, and presumably functional air conditioner here, that silently stares at me from its half-opened box because I'm simply too tired to actually finish the job. There is also a new, strange pain in my body, somewhere north of my right hip and east of my groin.

The real happy ending is, our repeated waves of violent rainstorms have cooled things off so much ... I won't even need an AC tonight. That's right.  Its a serene 77 degrees and likely to stay that balmy way through morning.  How about that?  Its now comfortable enough to sit at my computer, a cool glass of water at hand, and relive the whole horrifying day with you.

Well, dear #needcheeringup, I'm hoping this tale was able to amuse, if not entirely cheer-up.  Its my hope that the dregs of my day were able to sweeten yours, and that this weekend finds us both smiling again.

XXXX
Dee