Our washing machine is going on nine years old. I bought the matching washer and dryer in blue (like an idiot. Now they have me, because I cannot replace one without replacing the other. Please stick to white).
The other day, I noticed that my washing machine is leaking a little at the bottom. I quickly called the repair center and a technician came out today.
In the last six months, I have had three technicians come out for different appliance problems (we’re falling apart around here!). Each time, the technician has been helpful but they have all been the type of men that have a story. The type of man that would not feel comfortable hanging out with friends, but would prefer watching t.v. at home, by himself.
It has been an adventure to see who will turn up next.
Today, it was a younger man. He was tall and awkward, but quietly sweet and lovely. He had a wedding band and at one point mentioned that he has always wondered if his wife has a very strong neck, because she is 5’tall and he is 6’2″. The thought that he worried after his wife’s neck when she looked up at him made me happy. He was so apologetic for all of the things that are wrong with my machine. As if he is the one who has been overloading it for the past nine years.
Towards the end of the appointment, he had to break down some figures. Instead of sitting at either of the two tables within ten feet of him, he sat down crossed legged on the floor. Me being me, I did not even notice. I just continued to speak to him from my seat on the couch. I am a free spirited gal and if you want to sit on the floor, I won’t stop you.
But my husband, demonstrating once again that he is the kinder human being in our relationship, quickly asked him if he would like to sit at the table.
The man smiled and said, “No, thank you.” He explained that in all the times he is in people’s homes, he is always worried that he will break something. Or be blamed for breaking something that was all ready broken before he sat down.
So, we sat there quietly for a moment.
Then the man faintly said, “it is funny, but some people…oh never mind.”. And he softly smiled and continued with his figures.
Now I was intrigued. If there is one thing I love, it is a good story. “Some people what?”. I was dying to know. I imagined the stories that he was about to tell me. Naked people painted gold answering the door, a refrigerator stocked with nothing but pickles, an all purple wardrobe in every family member’s size haphazardly strewn across the laundry room floor. Some people what?
And so he grinned and said, “there are so many times that I sit on the floor and the homeowner will sit down next to me. And I think it is so awkward and funny that we are both sitting on the floor in their house, while there are seats all around us.”
I formed a picture of that in my mind and it melted my heart.
That is so sweet. What lovely people. I began to imagine the type of person who would do that. It definitely sounded like elderly people might, having more manners than the rest of us. But then I began worrying after their hips as they kneeled on the floor. I had just switched from elderly to Southern hospitality to soft hearted biker dude in my imagination, when my husband interrupted my thoughts.
He said to the young man, “That is so funny, because I was just about to sit down next to you.”
And reality sunk in. This is what defines us as human beings. Would you sit on the floor with him or continue to sit in your comfortable couch and not notice? I realized I would much rather have had my husband’s heart, in this instance, than my own. My love swelled for my husband at that moment for being the kind of person that I wasn’t.
The sweet man gave us our figures and left.
Now I am stuck with the cold hard fact that I am not as nice as I thought I was and a troublesome washing machine dilemma.
Would you pay $600 to repair your nine year old machine or shell out double that for a brand new one? I think I am 75% leaning towards the repair.
So my questions are twofold: What would you do about the washing machine? And which type of person are you; the accommodating sit on the floor type or the oblivious couch sitter?