So I Asked The Good Lord

Saturday afternoon it was very apparent the shop's HIVAC system wasn't up to snuff. I placed hand in front of one of vents, warm air. Made the call. Keep in mind it's the weekend. They said we'll be there soon.

Meanwhile customers have rain dripping from their brows. My shirt is soon wet. I'm ticked.

By closing time the air guys haven't arrived nor bothered to call. When I finally reach them they give the excuse they're busy. Said, leave the system on and we'll get to you Monday.

Monday arrives. They grace me with their presence. Bad capacitor, the fat man said. He replaced it and flipped the switch and warm air gushed forth. I said, "Doesn't seem to have solved the problem." He smiled then said, "Just wait. It takes time," and drove away.

This morning after I keyed the door and walk inside I immediately know I've a problem. My little thermometer registers eighty-five degrees. I'd left the system to cycle all night. Made the call. He arrived two hours later. "Uh-oh, he said."

I see federal reserve notes fluttering in the wind.

Busted shaft and bad compressor. The system is fifteen years old.

So, I asked the Good Lord what I'd done to tick him off. All I received in reply was a headache. Then, a tiny voice in the back of my mind said, "You know."

Stephen