We have a Swedish washing machine in our house - a front-loading, water-conserving machine by a company I've never heard of (Asko). The other day it stopped working, leaving a load of laundry soggy but unwashed. I initially blamed the power outage we'd experienced over the weekend, but putting it through another wash cycle only made the clothes a bit soggier. A bit smellier, too, since the load had now been sitting for a couple of days. And we're talking workout clothes and underwear here, so I imagine 300 bacterial Spartans had now become 300 billion, preparing not only to defend their territory but establish a vast empire.
Ordinary people might call the landlord or a repair shop at this point, but not I. No, I inherited my dad's DIY mentality, which generally means If I can't do it myself, I'll at least get to the point where I'm sure I can't.
Being an avid diagnostician - and feeling a special bond with this machine born in the land of my ancestors - I was pretty sure that there was a problem with the drive belt. Sure enough, it had snapped and lay coiled neatly below the drive motor. Our neighborhood hardware shop somehow always has what I need (Car battery terminal? Yup! Programmable thermostat? Sure! Hollow-point torx wrench? YOUHAVEGOTTOBEKIDDINGME!) to look for a replacement, but my luck was sure to run out sooner or later. I can't find a local supplier for this brand to save my life, so I went online to find somewhere to order a replacement. As luck would have it I found a place, and they'll even do same-day shipping. Even better, you can order online and pick up in their store!
But they only have one retail store for local pickup. And where is it? Canton, Michigan. Five minutes from where we used to live. Figures.
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2 comments:
Does that mean you are coming to pick up the part and visit?
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