Attack of the Appliances About two months ago the dishwasher broke. Now we are locked in battle with the repair people, who fucked up the repair and want another go at it tomorrow. At our expense, of course.

Sunday night, I heard a gushing noise coming out of the walls, which turned out to be related to our washing machine. What to do, but buy a new one? I grabbed a tape measure and a few minutes later, determined that the laws of the universe did not permit us to remove or replace the machine, and the condo must have been built around the existing appliances.

While measuring, I saw a peeling sticker with a phone number. It must have been 15 years old, since that's when the rehab was done. I called it anyway. At first, I got an error message, but I realized that could be because Chicago now has more than one area code. I tried one of the "new" area codes and someone actually answered! On a Sunday night! And he remembered our washing machine AND he volunteered to come out the next day!

He looked at it and said, "Oh yeah, I remember now. This is way too much of a pain in the neck for me to deal with." He wrote down a number for Colliculus to call. Another guy answered and came out less than an hour later.

Result: Tomorrow we have to deal with the dishwasher guy AND go out and find a new washing machine. One that defies the laws of space and time.

(Current washing machine's smallest dimension: 25.5 inches; dimension of laundry room doorway, with door removed: 25 inches.) 

¶ 9:33 PM