It all started when I heard my beloved grinding coffee beans at one o’clock in the morning.
Struggling to get out from under the weighted blanket, two cats and one dog I was groggily mumbling, “seriously? What the heck? Are you kidding me?” when I realized my husband was soundly snoring in the bed beside me. I went from barely awake to high alert in a flash and unceremoniously dumped the blankets and animals on the floor and headed to the kitchen.
There I found the dishwasher grinding away and spewing water across the floor. I stopped mumbling and started hollering, “seriously? What the heck? Are you kidding me?” as I slipped and slid my way across the tiles to hit the off button. It didn’t work no matter how many times I pressed, pushed, hit or begged the dishwasher just kept grinding and spewing. So, I did the next first thing I thought of. I yanked the door open.
With a huge belch of steam, one last God-awful screeching grind and a fire-hose spray of hot water the dishwasher died. Services for the deceased were held later that day after the repair guy told us that it would cost more than half the price of a new dishwasher to fix this old one. RIP Bosch Ascenta you left us too soon.
While the Bosch might have left us too soon, we couldn’t get a replacement soon enough. Apparently in The Time of Covid major appliances are both in high demand and in scarce supply unless we were willing to spend $1,100. Oooook so for that price does it cook the meal that dirties the dishes? Does it put the clean dishes away? Apparently, it does neither and, after thoroughly reading the description it doesn’t actually do anything different than a unit that’s half the cost. Well alllrighty then, I can let go of my white privilege and do dishes by hand for a month or six weeks until a reasonably priced unit is available. No problem.
The repair guy had just left and I was finishing exploding dishwasher cleanup when from my office came a cacophony of beep-beep-beeps and ding-ding-dings and whir-whir-whirs and some clunk-clunk-clunks. Oh Lord what now? I thought as I dried my hands and headed for what I just knew was going to be another appliance disaster.
When I got to the door of my office I could see my computer flashing what appeared to be hundreds of files of every sort and error message boxes at near light speed across the screen. “NOOOOOOOOOOO! Oh no, no, no, no!” My howls of distress were so pitiful that my old dog Max started baying in sympathy.
I taped command keys. I right clicked on the mouse. I left clicked on the mouse. And then, everything went dark and silent. I started to cry. After three hours on the phone with “advanced” technical support the computer was up and running again – kinda, sorta. It probably wouldn’t last long the tech told me and while we had managed to save all my files there was no guarantee because of a bunch of nerdy stuff I didn’t understand that this same thing wouldn’t happen again and the next time I might lose everything. RIP my Mac you left me too soon.
There is no shortage of computers during The Time of Covid just a serious shortage of funds but with no real choice or other options, I ordered a new one and cried some more as the cost was more than I earn (before taxes) in a month.
Later that evening still in some distress about the huge hits my appliances and finances had taken in less than 12 hours, I was making a batch of sweet potato fries in the air fryer. I walked out of the kitchen to throw in a load of laundry and a minute or two later all three dogs started barking, my beloved started hollering and I smelled something burning.
Dashing back to the kitchen I was greeted with an acrid stench. Small flames were emanating from the air fryer. After a moment of chaos, confusion and much throwing around of baking soda the flames died and the smoke cleared. The fries were toast, the air fryer was toast and half the kitchen was covered in a liberal dusting of sodium bicarbonate. RIP my Insignia 5-qt Stainless Steel Air Fryer you left me way too soon.
As I stood there in shock and awe I knew I had been transported into the vortex of apocalyptic appliance hell.
I looked at my beloved and for once in our nearly 30 year marriage I was speechless. I started to reach for the small hand vacuum I keep in the kitchen figuring I’d get started on clean up (again) but before I could pick it up, he lunged at me screaming “NO! Don’t touch it!”
“What? Why? I have to…”
“Absolutely not. You are The Eradicator of Appliances. The Appliances Kiss of Death. You are not allowed to touch another appliance for the next 24 hours. We can’t afford it!”
He had a point so I just walked out of the kitchen to the bedroom figuring I’d fold and put away clean clothes – no appliances involved. Walking into the bedroom I flipped the light switch and — pop! The bulb exploded.
I crawled into bed and pulled the covers over my head. It was 7:48 p.m.
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January 30, 2021 at 06:35PM
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The appliance kiss of death | Off the Record - Chico Enterprise-Record
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