Saturday night, Gracie-guts spent the night at her bestie’s house for a birthday sleepover. They were going to a drive-in for a three-movie feature, with a small group of 15yo girls, and I pretty much thought Bestie’s parents were off-their-rockers. (Even a gaggle of good-natured teenaged girls are still teenagers, after all.)
About eleven p.m. Saturday night, I had changed my mind. I did want to be chaperoning the [assuredly muggy][and loud] trip to the drive-in. It had to be cooler than my house. Because my air conditioning unit decided to stop running. In June. In Texas.
Well, *&%#.
I had noticed it getting warmer in the house. I thought maybe it was because I was listening to music and enjoying myself. Or maybe because I had the door closed to my bedroom – the bedrooms are on the west side of the house, and tend to retain the heat a bit longer during the evening. Or, maybe the thermostat reverted back to its very conservative setting of 82°.
Sort of, that’s what happened. On it was 84°. With the fan still running inside. Churning towards 76°. Heading in the wrong direction couldn’t be good.
I shut the unit off, then restarted it. I opened Bee-girl’s door and let her know I was aware of a problem, and trying to fix it. I told her if I couldn’t get anyone out to look at it, I’d take us to a hotel for the night. (I wasn’t calling anyone at 11:30 p.m. to see if we could couch-crash.) Instead, I started cold-calling companies.
The middle-of-the-night thing was a problem. I had a guy I trusted, but I wasn’t calling him that late (I wasn’t sure he’d be up). And since it was 86° in the house by then, I wasn’t waiting around to see how hot it got. It sucked that I didn’t have the number in my phone of the company I’d used before whenever my unit leaked through my ceiling. Then again, they had bamboozled me last time, so maybe that wasn’t a big loss.
I pulled up Angie’s List (god bless AnNgie’s List) and started calling. One company couldn’t get out here until after 2 a.m. – I got on their waiting list, at least. Another couldn’t reach anyone through dispatch. The third company said it would be $200 for an emergency call, but that I could use that minimum payment toward any repair costs. I asked three more times to make sure I understood. I even gave an example: like, say it’s a pump that costs $130. I pay the $200 emergency call minimum, and apply it towards the pump. I’m out $200 total. If the pump costs $300, I’m out the $200 for the emergency call, it gets applied towards the more expensive pump, and I’m out $300. That’s the company I went with because the others charged more for a middle of the night call, or wouldn’t let it apply the charge towards cost of repairs. They dispatched their repairman from an hour away.
That’s all important because: the first company who wanted me to wait until 2 a.m.? They called back right after the other company dispatched someone. The 2 a.m. company was only $59 for the call, but I was honorable and didn’t cancel the $200 company.
But when that repairman arrived and tried to tell me I couldn’t apply the $200 towards repairs, I wasn’t having it. I’m sure they counted on people to say, Oh it’s midnight, just fix it, but I hate you and your bait-and-switch tactics. I was willing to fight. I chose them because of that option; I re-iterated it quite a few times to make sure I understood; and I would have canceled them and gone with the first company if they were honest. Thankfully, the repairman came in and said his manager said they could honor what dispatch told me. Probably because he saw that I was ready to pitch him out and go to Holiday Inn Express.
Just before 3 a.m., we had a brand new motor and a few other parts, a warning that I’d need a brand-new ($12,000) system within a year, and I was out about $1,100 for repairs.
But I had cool air. And Saturday night that’s all I needed to make me happy.
Can't Get There From Here 