Last Thursday, our air conditioning went out. We waited all day for the repair guy, who told us he couldn't fix our problem until the next morning because he had to order a fan. Anyway, I had waited in our hot house all day for the UPS man to deliver our daughter Laura's wedding dress. The bridal shop in Brinkley had specifically coordinated the delivery so that Laura's dress would spend minimal time in a cramped box on a hot truck. My husband, Jim, had cooled down our motorhome, so we would at least have an escape from the heat, but I still waited inside our hot house for the UPS man.
Well, I went out to the motorhome to update our son, Matthew, about our air conditioner’s fate. While I was out in the motorhome, I heard the familiar rumble of the UPS truck. I flew down the motorhome's steps and across the patio. I could hear the "Chariots of Fire" theme song in my head as I raced inside our house. As soon as my eyes adjusted from the searing brightness of daylight to the dark contrast inside my house, I saw a note taped to my front door. The note had been left by the UPS man, who could not be more than a block away by that time. I grabbed the keys to Matthew’s car, since it was parked behind other cars, and headed out to catch that UPS guy. The air-conditioning repair guy was at that very moment making his way to his truck, which was parked beside Matthew’s car. I was obviously angry as I hastily high-stepped my way to the car, muttering “This is crap, crap, crap!” I am certain that the squeal of Matthew’s tires on the pavement alerted the air-conditioner guy that I was terribly unhappy about something. I had the UPS guy’s note with me, and I rolled the car’s windows down because I was already hot and the car’s interior was scorching enough to bake flesh. When I took off at warp speed, the note nearly exited the open passenger window, but I managed to catch it when it circled back around on an air current.
Anyway, as I turned the corner on Dogwood, I saw the UPS man stopped at a neighbor’s house. As soon as I neared his truck, however, he took off, and I remained in pursuit. I followed this boxy brown truck through Tinseltown Cinema’s parking lot, behind Dixie Café’s parking lot, and then through The Home Depot’s parking lot. The UPS guy stopped near the front entrance and I pulled in behind him. However, an approaching customer’s menacing stare prompted me to move my vehicle, so I pulled in front of the truck and hopped out of the car, leaving one sandal behind. I plucked the sandal off the floor board with my big toe and repositioned my foot into the sandal before I ran back to meet the UPS man. After I caught the guy’s attention, I waved the retrieved note and explained that I really needed to get my package. The UPS man explained that he just knew someone had to be home at “26,” since he’d seen the air-conditioning guy coming and going. The UPS guy handed me the giant box containing Laura’s dress, veil and headpiece, and I loaded it into the backseat of Matthew’s car and headed home. Once inside, I carefully opened the box. Since I was sweating like a pig, I hesitated to inspect the dress, for fear I’d leave perspiration stains, but at least I’d managed to get the dress out of that box before another night passed.
Just after I removed the dress from the box, I noticed that the air-conditioner repair guy had returned. He seemed a little fearful of me when I opened the door and stepped out to see what he wanted. He stopped below the steps, and I suppose he felt that a bit of distance between us was wise, at least for his welfare. Anyway, the guy explained that he had found the fan we needed, so he’d be able to repair our air conditioner. No more than fifteen minutes later, the air conditioner was repaired. When the repairman returned with the invoice for me to sign, he asked if everything was okay. I pointed to the oversized dress bag hanging in the doorway and recalled my odyssey to rescue the dress. “Oh,” he said, “I wasn’t sure what you were upset about, but I knew you were angry.” That’s when I realized that he thought I was mad at him for not repairing our air conditioner. The repairman also explained that since his next appointment didn’t answer his phone, the repairman had decided to use that time to repair our unit. That’s also when I realized that “ordering a new part” is just a ruse the repairmen use to stay on schedule with their obviously overbooked appointments.
Anyway, that’s my story of the week. I am at least happy to report that the inside of our house is cool! Maybe Laura and her fiancé will plan a fall or even a winter wedding! Hmmm--maybe I should have my furnace checked soon!