Do I look like I have "Sucker" written across my forehead?

. . . I must, because yesterday was "a day." Yes, it was one of "those days." (Do you feel a story coming on? I do!)

I confess, I'm terrible about making phone calls. Really terrible. I mean, they could take my phone away, and I would be one very happy camper. I have a laptop, and that's all I need.

But those pesky phone calls had been piling up for a while, so last Friday I took the dreaded phone in my hand and started dialing. I called the glass shop in town because I have a couple of windows with cracks in them. I called the vet to make an appointment for the Wonder Dog because she's two months--yes, TWO MONTHS--overdue for her check-up. That's how much I hate making phone calls.

And I made a call to an appliance repairman because I have three appliances that have "issues." I have phone issues. My appliances have other issues.

Like being loud and obnoxious. That issue belongs to my dishwasher.

And not heating up properly. That one goes to my upper oven.

And not dispensing. You can probably guess this one. My refrigerator has the I'm-not-going-to-dispense-water-or-ice-until-you're-nice-to-me issue.

So, being as cheap as I am, I figure I'd wait until just one more thing in my kitchen broke because then I could have the repairman out once and cover all my issues at the same time. But, alas, it's been about six months since the refrigerator decided not to dispense, and nothing else has broken, so I figured it was time.

Besides, I had the phone in my hand.

So I took the leap and called the guy. He came out yesterday.

Funny thing is, he doesn't think my appliances have issues. He thinks I have issues. Seriously? Me? He doesn't even know me.

Take the dishwasher for instance. We started it up as soon as he got here and it worked like a charm. No loud noises. No grinding sound. Of course. Late in its cycle it started making the noise and my friend, Phil . . . that was his name, Phil . . . said, "Is that the sound you mean?"

Yeah, Phil. That's the one.

"Oh, that's just a vibration. You could try pushing up against the dishwasher, but chances are it will just go back to making the same noise a couple days later."

Great.

So how about my upper oven? This one's even more broken. It won't heat up properly. See, the oven has a sensor that tells me when the oven is pre-heated, but it seems like when that sensor goes off the oven isn't hot.

So Phil points to his head and says, "Sometimes when we think there's a problem here, there's no way anybody can tell us there's not really a problem there." He points to the oven.

Huh? Are you saying it's all in my head? What about those cookies that wouldn't bake?

So Phil gets out an electric thermometer, after giving me a long lecture about the terrible inaccuracies of the oven thermometer I had bought at the grocery store. First he calls me crazy, then he calls me stupid. What next?!

We started the oven, and after a few minutes it beeped to tell us it was pre-heated, but the thermometer said it was only about 300 degrees in there. See, Phil? I'm not crazy!

But Phil proceeds to tell me that those pre-heat sensors aren't always reliable and you just have to wait a little longer for the oven to heat up. After about 10-15 minutes, he said, the oven should be just fine.

Again, he does the head-pointing thing. Like I'm making this stuff up!

So we move on to the refrigerator which is the biggest issue for my family, let me tell you. No crushed ice for their drinks! Horrors!

First Phil messes with the filter, thinking it's just clogged. Nope, all is well. Then he pulls out the fridge from its space. I think he just did that to humiliate me. I quickly grabbed a broom while he fiddled around in the back.

Finally, Phil assesses the problem. A sensor in the control panel has gone bad.

See? I'm not crazy! There really IS a problem in this kitchen. But, turns out, the real problem was Phil. Because he couldn't fix the problem. He said I have to call GE.

Great, Phil. Just great.

After 30 minutes in my kitchen, telling me I'm nuts and that my appliances really don't have issues, he handed me a bill.

$99.

Are you kidding me?! Ninety-nine dollars to insult me and to not fix a doggone thing?

But I'm a sucker, so I paid the man and sent him on his merry way.

But I did get something out of the deal. A real nifty letter opener with his business card in it.



So I guess it was worth it.