So I’ve been playing russian roulette with spring, with each spin of the chamber hoping that hot weather doesn’t arrive before the A/C guys, from whom I rent air conditioning units.
In true Ontario fashion, unseasonably cold temps gave way to middle-of -July get-in-the-shade-and-drink-beer heat. And I had no A/C. And the heat is still on in the apartment building until the middle of freakin’ June. An OH-EM-GEE moment, if ever there was one.
So I cancelled my rentals and headed down to Rona’s first thing this morning to buy me a portable air conditioner. It weighed as much as my car, but I managed to slide it out of the trunk and onto a dolley.
Only the dolley wouldn’t fit in the elevator. I sat on a bench in the lobby with my precious cargo pondering my dilemma when the building manager strolled by.
“That won’t fit in the elevator,” he said smiling. “Let me get you a smaller one.”
He turned around and went into the parking garage and brought back the proper dolley. ‘
“Here, let me.” He lifted the heavy box up and plopped it down on the dolley effortlessly.
I could have kissed him.
I went upstairs and emailed by neighbour, who came by about 40 minutes later and helped me get it the thing off the dolley and into the bedroom. We stuffed the hose in the window and voila! Nice cool boudoir.
I had thought of only getting one, but had second thoughts. I HATE being hot.
“Could you come back with me to Rona’s to get the second unit?”
“Of course,” my nice neighbour said.
“And install it?” I asked guiltily.
“Of course,” he said again.
So here I sit in my apartment on a 90 degree day, with two A/C units blasting, thinking how much poorer I am (those suckers are expensive!) but inevitably richer for having such nice people living just down the hall.