Sam's Follies

As humankind's laziest blogger, I have nothing really important to write about, which many of you have grown accustom to by now. So let me simply tell you what’s been going on in my little world lately.

I’m not sure if I should cry or slap myself in the face with my own feet. The events of the past few hours have got me all bollixed up. (By the way, that’s the first time I’ve ever used the word “bollixed” in my entire life.) I’m perplexed, frustrated, and sexually aroused all at the same time. Of course I’m only sexually aroused because I'm a man and that's pretty much my default position. But the other stuff, well it’s just a comedy of errors. Or maybe not a comedy of errors, but it’s a comedy of something.

Last night, I decided to go out and do some shopping and then go for a run at the park. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned in this blog the particulars about where I run, but Houston has a fairly nice park called Memorial Park (our version of Central Park), and in addition to tennis courts, swimming pools, baseball diamonds, a mountain-biking course, there is a dirt and cinder track that circles a golf course. It’s a three-mile track, and that’s where I run; actually a lot of people run there, but you get the idea. Anyway, before I left the house to shop and exercise, I put a load of laundry in the wash to cycle through while I was running. Hey, I’m nothing if not efficient with my time.

I arrived at the park, and did three miles on the trail that circles the golf course. Three miles is very good for me at this point, because I’m not in great shape for running. I'm in good shape for playing poker or for taking naps, but for running . . . not so much. Right now it’s more of an exercise is not passing out than it is to get faster. In fact, my heart almost exploded as I was coming down the final stretch. Had it not been for the blanket of cholesterol that cradles my ticker like swaddling clothes on the baby Jesus, I'm certain it would have burst like a water balloon. But despite my failing internal organs, I managed to finish the circuit.

Anyway, several minutes after the run, my left arm stopped tingling, and I was feeling great. I had made a purchase I was excited about, and I had managed to keep from dying in the middle of the track at the park. When I got home, I was whistling a cheery tune as I loaded the clothes that were now finished washing into the dryer, and I skipped and clicked my heels together as I went upstairs to get a shower. (Okay, that’s probably a going overboard just a tad, but you get the idea. I was in a good mood.)

Upstairs, I turned on the water in my shower still just as cheerful as can be, and . . . .

No hot water.

Damn!!

So I went back down to the laundry room where the water heater is located to see if there was something I could do to remedy the problem, and the cursed thing was making a funny buzzing noise. It sounded like a cross between Chewbaca and one of your top of the line female-specific sex toys. I’m not sure if there’s a normal sound a water heater makes, but I don’t think it’s supposed to sound like a Dian Fossey documentary --- or a triple X porn film for that matter. In any case, it obviously was not working.

Now this is an industrial water heater that heats water for the laundry room and two of the apartments in my building (mine and the guy’s across from me). I quickly summoned my best repair techniques, but my skills at fixing water heaters consist of banging it on the side with the palm of my hand a couple of times whilst shouting, “Come on!”. It sounds like a complicated maneuver I know, but even with that bit of mechanical wizardry at my disposal, the bloody thing simply mocked me with more buzzing. I was going to have to deploy Super Secret Water Heater Repair Plan B. The only problem is there’s no such thing as Super Secret Water Heater Repair Plan B. Hell, in all reality there was no such thing as Super Secret Water Heater Repair Plan A.

At any rate, I thought perhaps there was a problem with the electric ignition switch. Maybe it just needed to be reset.

Well, if there was any question of my water heater repair prowess before, it became clear very quickly that I probably shouldn’t be messing with the infernal thing at all, because when I tried to unplug the electric ignition device to reset it, I shorted out the entire laundry room.

Of course with the electricity out in the laundry room, the dryers went dead, and my clothes wouldn’t dry. So now, I’m standing there in the dark, stinking of sweat with no hot water and no way to dry my clothes.

I went back upstairs (no whistling or clicking of my heels this time), got my phone, and called the Super to come fix the thing. Of course, I pretended like I had just happened upon the shorted out electricity (I didn't mention any Super Secret Water Heater Repair plans). Unfortunately, he couldn’t get a guy out until the following morning, which would have been today.

Now, I hate not showering after I exercise, but I didn’t want to take a cold shower either. Besides the Super said his guy would be out by 6am, and the thing would be fixed. So I left my clothes to mold over in the dryer, I dried off and aired out as best I could last night, and went to bed stinky, knowing that in the morning I could get a good warm shower before work.

Now, in the middle of the night, I was stirred from a quite peaceful slumber. Seems when your heart comes near to exploding, it really wears you out. I had been bothered in the middle of the night by a possum in my attic only a few days before, but I hadn’t heard old Pete the Possum rooting around in days. He was either being very quiet last night, or he was out of town visiting relatives, because the attic was silent. No, I was stirred by the sound of a dog barking. The girl in the apartment below me has a dog that is not quite fully grown yet. It’s basically still a puppy, and it barks when she leaves it home alone. She must have gone to stay with her boyfriend, because the poor thing barked for about half an hour straight. I assumed it tired itself out, because it finally fell silent, and I was able to get back to sleep.

Well, I woke up this morning, ready for my wonderful, cleansing, soothing hot shower and guess what. Yep. There was still no hot water. I guess the Super’s fix-it guy overslept or something.

Well, it was bad enough that I stuffed my dirty body between my sheets last night, but I wasn’t about to come into the office without taking a shower.

Not to be too graphic, but did you know that a man’s genitalia will disappear into his abdominal cavity if the water is sufficiently cold enough? It will, and mine did. In fact, it just recently came back out again to see if the coast was clear. Needless to say, I was quite grumpy, though very alert, when I came into work this morning.

I can tell you with all certainty that I can't push my heart to bursting with a three mile run, and then have it nearly stop from cold water shock any more. How can I be the world's laziest blogger if I have to keep writing about this stuff?