Our eight-year-old aircon suffered a heat stroke due to the heat wave that’s raging across the metro for the past weeks now. I replaced it with a more fancy, nano-technology type that monitors your cholesterol and uric acid levels. Funny how the air temp can change the moods of people around you. There is peace in the household now.
But I’ve got to get rid of the old one. I searched the online marketplace for anyone interested in buying an old and busted friend. Several responded to my ad but only one made a bid. He won. An hour and a vroom-vroom later, he came.
I went out expecting a truck or at least a car. After all, a tonner-and-a-half split-type aircon weighs a ton and a half. And sizeable. You gotta have space for the outdoor unit -which contains the compressor, the fan, and several trapped dead birds; the indoor unit -thru which cold air comes out (sometimes); and, a 6-meter insulated copper tubing. But instead of a car or a truck, he rode in on his motorbike -a measly 75ish cc rugged beast.
“How are you going to fit all these in there?” I asked while showing him all the items.
“She’s carried a lot bigger items than these,” he proudly retorted.
“What, like a house and lot?” I joked. He paused for a few seconds without looking at me to show the level of regard he had for my joke, sighed deeply, then continued with his packing. I gave him an ‘A’ for his creativity and perseverance in doing business but a ‘D’ in pun exchange. There’s no pleasing everyone, I guess. Not even in the junk business.
A few minutes, a roll of packing tape and another pair of vroom-vroom later, he was gone. Goodbye, friend. You’ve served us well. I’m happy. The deal made me a thousand bucks richer.
To cooler days ahead, cheers!
If you’ve been touched, amused, or entertained by this post, or it put a smile on your face, please favor me with a cup of coffee. I will continue writing.
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