my Bosch stove is kaput.
The deal was, Orville's repair shop does not tell you if the repairman, on the appointed day, will arrive in the morning or the afternoon. I did not realize that. Innocently I called the day before the appointed day, which was yesterday, to ask if the repair would be in the morning, which I hoped, or in the afternoon.
Ms. Orville said, "We can't tell you that. You will get a phone call between 3 and 5 telling you."
I said, "Between 3 and 5 tomorrow?" Tomorrow being my repair day.
She said: "No, today."
I looked at the clock. "It's 2:58 now," I said. "It's two minutes till three. Can't you tell me? Maybe you could look it up.,"
She put me on hold.
There was a long pause. I waited.
Finally came the bad news. The repair was in the afternoon.
I, ahem, work. I had an assignment in the afternoon that could not be broken. So there I am, out of luck. Unfortunately I was nice as pie, please and thank you. Nice as pie gets you nowhere, you know? I always think of the last time I went to California to see Leonard Pennario. The rental car place lost my reservation and showed no compassion and I actually lost it to the extent that I complained and then I cried. Publicly. End result, as we say here in Buffalo: Compassion. Satisfaction. Finally!
I asked them if they could move me to the morning and you could tell this bureaucrat really enjoyed herself as she told me no.
It didn't make sense, when you thought about it. If all the calls went out between 3 and 5 that meant I was ahead of the pack. Why couldn't they move me and then call one of the previously scheduled morning appointments and simply told them the afternoon?
Rage, rage against Orville's.
The repair had to be rescheduled for Saturday, zut alors.
But meanwhile there can still be fresh bread, thanks to the bread machine! People wonder why you need a bread machine. This is why.
The loaf has risen very high and a wonderful aroma is filling the house.
There is always a bright side!