4 April 2012
New Part For An Old Machine
The breadpan that fits in my breadmaker fell apart. Sonja, seeing the rusted bits on the counter beside what was left of the breadpan, told me, "I told you not to wash that thing in the dishwasher." If I could figure out a way to wash the dog in the dishwasher I would do it. If she could poke her head out of the noisy beast she would love it too. I was not going to buy a whole new breadmaker so I went to the store I bought it from and asked their customer service clerk, "Can I order a part for the breadmaker I bought here?" "This isn't the 1950s," the clerk told me. "Try the Internet." I left the store feeling like the world's last motherfucking dinosaur. I found the breadmaker's phone number on the Internet and phoned them up. Lucky for me it is a Canadian machine and I did not have talk to Chairman Mao to order the part I wanted. Lady I talked to tried to persuade me it was hardly worth the shipping costs to order the part but it was. They sent it Canada Post. Guess I did my bit for my fellow union radicals. I was a happy Canadian until I thought of Harper screwing everybody he can think of.