I Really Hope You Never Meet a Washing Machine Engineer Like This!

It’s really hard being a short sighted, educationally challenged, slightly deaf and colour blind washing machine repair man. I do my best, but…

My day usually begins at about 5.30 am, when I first start hitting the alarm clock. After about 3 hours of this, the alarm clock gives up and phones my wife, who knowing me quite well by now asks ” I can see your eyes are open, but are you actually awake?”

After an hour of pottering about in the bathroom, my wife reminds me that in my case it’s usually better if I pee in the shower and tells me she regrets training me to put the toilet seat down lg washer repair los angeles.

08 something or other, I get my 1st call from a customer with a broken washing machine. I spend 35 minutes taking down the directions to her house. Only to discover some time later, she is my neighbour. It’s a good job really as I can’t read what I’ve written down with the dog chew I thought was a pen.

08 a bit later, my wife leaves for work telling me that if I can’t tell if my toast is done, I’m not to stick my finger in the toaster again, so I have some porridge instead, I hope.

9ish O,clock. Time to load up my van with the tools and parts I will need today and off to repair lots of washing machines for, as far as I can tell, the same customer all day.

After I reverse out of my drive, I reverse next door, turn around and reverse somewhere else, but where, I’m not sure.

My wife calls me. I miss her call again as it’s a number I don’t know, but by now I am following the directions from my satellite navigation system, so it’s happy days. Except there is some song on the radio that goes “You are at your home location” Can’t see it ever being a hit, however speaking of hits!!

11ish. I am on the road again, radio turned down and sat nav up. Lovely sunny morning and I’m king of the road. I think I’ll go for a Costa coffee before my 1st job.

The manager of Costa Coffee is pleased to see me, but says I am 2 hours late. Bugger 2 hours for a latte! I haven’t got time. “The coffee washing machine is just over here” he says as he points off somewhere into the distance.

I commiserate with him as I go to off to my van to get my tool kit. After a couple of hours, the manager comes and asks me why I have been giving parking directions to a big blue recycling bin.

Bin parked, we both make our way back to the coffee shop to see what could be wrong with the coffee machine. I suppose at this stage there is no real point telling Mr Costa Coffee, that I know a little about laundry washing machines and nothing whatever about coffee washing machines.

After a short discussion, where Mr Costa does lots of jumping up and down, shouting and what sounds like pointing, I have a look at his busted machine, he also has a look at the machine and for a while we both stand and look at the machine. Then I agree with him that it is broken and ask him for a coffee.

My wife calls me again, but her language is so bad. I can’t say here exactly what she calls me. Apparently I reversed into our neighbour again this morning. As I leave the coffee shop I see that the good coffee drinkers of Costa, don’t appreciate the hands free loudspeaker function on my phone either.

After some trouble getting into and starting my van, I drive off towards my neighbours house to repair the washing machine. It must be in a bad way because after a mile or so I am given a police escort. One of the police cars trys to overtake me, but it’s not fast enough. They wave at me. I wave back at them. They point at me, I point back at them.

My wife calls me again, but when I push the hands free answering button, I realise it has been stolen. Slowly I depress the brake pedal by telling it all about my life and just then the police car gets a spurt of speed and overtakes me, only to run out of gas in front of me.

Quick as a flash, I take emergency evasive action just after I run into the police car. Around that exact moment I am attacked and stunned by an air bag. “This is the police, keep your hands where we can see them” So I keep them on the ends of my arms as usual.

A nice young police officer comes over to me and offers to remove my bottom through my throat. I tell him “Officer, I know my rights-on the other side to my left” Then he sees that the TV crew have turned up and asks, if he should call me an Ambulance? “If you want” I tell him “but it’s not really my name”

Then my wife calls again. I can hear her, but I can’t remember answering the phone, all the same I can hear her voice quite clearly, just as clearly as if she were here beside me. “Moron! not your van, someone else’s, yours is still parked outside Costa Coffee, I would ask what you were thinking, but I know you can’t.” Then she gets my name wrong again. “I only married you because I thought you were Rich”

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