This has been a crazy week in the El Guapo household. Please know that when I use the word “crazy,” I really mean to say that mi madre was nagging up a storm. Porque? Well, our washing machine is broken.
This is not just any washing machine. This is the washing machine that mi madre said was going to change her life. This is the washing machine that made me lose 4 hours of my very precious life while mi dear madre bargained with the Sears salesperson. Did she offer to cook him tamales for a discount? No comment. Is Sears the Saks of Latinos? You bet your sweet Caucasian ass.
One day, and trust me when I say that it was a sad day, this washing machine washed for 3 hours. Clothes that I had worn just yesterday now fit my baby cousin. Anything that was white, was now maroon. Si, someone in mi familia has one (not two) maroon sock and it ruined everything. Why was the cycle 3 hours? Well, I still think that Dios is punishing me for dating an Argentine woman, but what do I know? I’m just a simple Guatemalan.
Anyway, it was determined by my sisters and mother that I should stay at home while the repairman came to take a look at it.
“You’re so good with these things El Guapo. I don’t have the patience to deal with the Sears man today.”
Yes, I’m amazing. I figured out that the washer only works when the laundry room light is on. All of a sudden I’m a regular DeVry grad… Who can say no to their madre?
So, I had to wait between the hours of 9 AM – 4 PM for the Sears man to come.
At exactly 2 PM I received a phone call telling me that “Greg” was on his way. Greg nervously knocked on my door and spoke loudly and slowly when speaking to me. Even when I responded in perfect English, Greg didn’t seem to comprehend that speaking loudly and slowly wasn’t helping our conversation. In fact, it was making me want to shove my fist…..
Anyway, I show my loud, slow-talking Sears man to the laundry room. I showed him a pile of my maroon undershirts and told him what happened.
“Did you read the instruction manual?”
Oh si, like I have time to read the instruction manual.
Yes, sir. I did.
“Tell me exactly what you did.”
Exactly. Ok. There was a pile of clothes in the hamper. The clothes were dirty. I looked over and saw our brand new washer that is supposed to take care of this little problem. I put the dirty clothes in the washer. I chose the largest load option possible. I chose cold water. Then I moved the dial to “Regular” and pulled the lever. Three hours later, the machine was still washing and the water was very hot. This is exactly what I did. Exactly.
“What’s the problem?”
I stared into Greg’s slightly cross-eyed blue eyes and wondered to myself how much better my life would have been if I hadn’t discovered the magic of my laundry room’s faulty wiring.
Well sir, the washing machine was on for 3 hours. The water was hot when I chose cold. My shirts are maroon now.
“Buddy, this is a new kind of a washing machine. This ain’t the kind you’re used to. When you choose the “regular” cycle, it’s going to go to town on your clothes. They don’t mess around anymore.”
Sir, I have never heard of a washing machine that washes for 3 consecutive hours. I realize that you’re the expert, and please pardon me if I’m completely wrong, but when I choose cold I expect that it’s cold. I can’t imagine who would need their clothes washed for three hours.
“Oh man, are you kidding. You should see the people that buy these things. Their clothes are filthy.”
Three hours filthy? What clothes require 3 hours of wash?
“Hell, coal miners man. You need to wash for a long time to get the coal dust out.”
Ave Maria encantada…..
Sir, are you trying to tell me that my family has purchased the coal miners model for this washing machine?
“Yeah man, you can’t be choosing the regular cycle unless you want your clothes to really get washed. You need to choose the light cycle.”
I wanted to ask him what the “super” cycle was for, but I was afraid he’d tell me it was for people who worked in nuclear facilities.
Well sir, it’s obvious that my family bought too much washing machine (he chuckled and nodded his head in agreement). Is it possible that you can check to see why the water was coming out hot when it should have been cold?
He reluctantly agreed to do this for me and figured out that some kind of gauge wasn’t working. He fixed it, we tested the coal-miners cycle again, and it worked.
At the end I was under the impression that Greg was expecting a tip for fixing the washer. This is where my English deteriorated and I began talking about my dream of being a coal miner.
Luckily, if that dream ever comes to fruition, I know that my clothes will be nice and clean.
If you see me walking down the street with a maroon undershirt, por favor, don’t judge. I’m a simple Guatemalan training to be a coal miner.