This week, strange men came into the house.
We had a big, loud metal box with a big wheel outside our house. A squirrel runs on the wheel. If he goes clockwise, the box blows hot air and counterclockwise cold. My Dad noticed nothing happened when he signaled the squirrel to run and called the squirrel wrangler.
Mommy was out of the house when the wrangler came, so I was held by Daddy, and we went to my least favorite room (the outside) with the wrangler. He opened the box and just like I thought: No squirrel. The wrangler said he needed to order one, which he called “an electrical board,” Until then, we would have to Little House on the Prarie.
The next day the wrangler called and said that the squirrel would cost over a thousand dollars. Knowing they would not survive the winter without a fresh squirrel and living under the model “Whatcha gonna do?” they okayed the purchase. This was on a Thursday, and they will put in the part on Monday.
Over the weekend, Daddy had an idea. He looked up the paperwork she was given when they bought the box and saw that he was guaranteed free squirrels for ten years. He called the box store, and they agreed he was due a free squirrel.
I thought we should just get one from the yard, but they must be trained.
Daddy called the wrangler and was told, “no, you don’t have a warranty!” Daddy asked how they knew that since they didn’t have the model, serial, or installation date. “Why don’t you just tell me the name of the movie you selected,” the man said, then hung up the phone.
Daddy called back and talked to the poor person who had to answer the phone and take the abuse for the higher-paid fools she shares an office with, and she told Daddy she would mention it to the service manager, who would call the same day. HVAC repair companies work a 96-hour day.
While waiting, I got to experience autumn in New England, which sounds like a lovely Barry Manilow song, but it is just a season with cold nights and mornings when you need the heat, hot afternoons when you need the AC, and 10:13 PM when it is briefly comfortable.
Finally, it was all worked out, and the wrangler came over with the squirrel. He first said, “I don’t know nuthin’ about no warranty.” So, while the wrangler stood in the driveway holding his squirrel, Daddy spent a half hour on the phone until someone said he could have the freaking squirrel (which I could have gotten for him, but only if it walked on the porch because I hate the outside.)
Once he got the OK, the man began to put the new squirrel on the wheel, which was good because the following two days were going to be hot, and the next two were freezing. After a half hour, the man came back in and said, “Squirrel don’t fit; moose outside shoulda told ya.”
So, the man said he would have the new squirrel the next day, but we didn’t. It was so hot on Friday night I didn’t want to sleep under the covers and so cold the next two days I wanted more covers. My parents hope it is fixed Monday, but it is Columbus Day when he found America, and the new land discovered shotty customer service. (If you think the blanket the white man gave you has smallpox: Press one.)
Me, I’m going to hibernate.