There was an almighty roar of a diesel engine and scrunching gears. Pictured dirty coffee cops and scrunched breakfast roll tinfoil and tabloids. A smell like motor oil and farted methane. He gave the impression that he’d left the phone about ten feet away and started shouting into it. And he still had the squeaky voice too, burst accordion. “WHERE DO YOU LIVE?!”
‘Where do you LIVE?!!’
‘Or the FIFTH?!’
‘Well if you….’
‘It’s about…’
(Revvvvvvvvv…..grumble….screech…..!!) ‘Is it BIG OR SMALL I SAID?!’
‘Well if you come down the road and…’
‘Hang on, I THINK I’M OUTSIDE!!’

He arrived at the house in spectacularly less silence and said: ‘That’s not a Whirlpool.’
‘I know.’
‘I work for Whirlpool, you see.’
‘So I can’t fix this.’
‘Why not? The shop sent you.’
‘I don’t know why they sent me.’
‘Are you not the repairman?’
‘I am, but, only for Whirlpool.’
‘So what do we do?’
‘Ring the shop, and they’ll send someone.’
‘They already sent you.’
‘But I work for Whirlpool, you see.’
‘So why did they ask you to come.’
‘I don’t know. But I can’t fix this anyway.’
‘Any idea what might be wrong with it?’
‘It’s broke, I’d say.’
‘Do you think??’
‘Just the way it’s actin there, I’m a Whirlpool man, now, so I wouldn’t know for sure when it comes to them…did you try switchin it off and on?’
‘And what happened?’
‘Hmm…see, if it was a Whirlpool alright I could do somethin, but…them crowd are different…I have to go anyway…’
And he left and flaked the van up the driveway. I rang the shop. The computerised voice said there’s a wait time of thirteen minutes. Gave up after half an hour in the interest of public safety.

Time passed, a few weeks. Days that’ll never be seen again. Then the voicemail came. Always an intrigue, who might this be now? “Hello,….eh, Mick? Just wonderin how the repair went and if there’s anythin else we can do? Please let us know, we’ll ring again tomorrow anyway, thanks….” And she tried to hang up but missed the receiver so there was a loud clattering and a bit of a mumble and then total silence, a telephonic spinal break. No more synaptic jumps of wonderful communication. No number to ring back or anything.

Didn’t matter anyway cos at that stage it had fixed itself and was working fine.


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