Our cute little house came complete with an appliance package: ancient washer, ancient dryer, ancient dishwasher, tiny stove, and decent refrigerator.
We turned on the dryer and it started. We don't know yet if it actually will dry anything.
We have not tried the washer. It isn't even hooked up yet. Hope it works!
The dishwasher is going to be scrapped. Its replacement (now sitting in the garage) is also used but not nearly as old.
We will use the refrigerator.
As for the stove, well, I had hopes of replacing it but decided that if necessary I could make it work. MIL has been searching Craigslist and found a regular-sized stove not too far away for a very decent price. We emailed the seller and I arranged to meet him at 11:00 on Monday morning. MIL offered to take the Boogie shopping with her and FIL said I could use his truck. Perfect.
I entered the address in the GPS, strapped the Phebis into her car seat and away we went. I gave myself 45 minutes to make the thirty-minute drive including a stop at the bank on the way.
At the bank I decided to go through the drive-through and cash a check instead of getting the Phebis out of the truck and going inside to use the ATM. I figured it might take a couple of minutes longer but would be easier.
When I pulled up there was a car in front of me. I sat for a few minutes while waiting for them to finish. No big deal. I would be next and it doesn't take long to cash a check. I was a bank teller for almost 3 years. I know it's a simple transaction.
I sent my check and ID and waited ... and waited ... and waited. Finally, after about five minutes, the teller finished up and sent the canister out with my cash and ID. I know that five minutes doesn't really seem like a long time, but it is a bit on the lengthy side for cashing a small check, especially when the check is drawn on that bank and the funds are obviously available and it isn't a weird amount and the customer isn't asking for complicated denominations. And I was the only person in the drive-through at that point, so it wasn't like she was waiting on several customers at once. But okay, it was Monday morning. I know how Monday mornings can be at a bank. It can get kind of crazy. Sometimes computer systems get overloaded and slow down. I can give the benefit of the doubt.
By then I'd been sitting in the drive-through for about ten minutes altogether. A little longer than I'd planned on but no big deal, I was still on track to meet the seller on time.
I opened the envelope and counted my cash. I always count my cash.
It was twenty dollars short.
Are you kidding me? ARGH! I counted it a couple more times just to make sure there weren't a couple of sticky bills or something. No luck.
I sent it back and told the teller it was short. I knew what she was going to say ...
"I'm going to have to count my drawer."
There was nothing I could do. Getting frustrated wouldn't help. I called the seller and told him I was going to be a few minutes late and would that be okay? He said it was fine. I told him I should be there shortly after eleven.
Ten minutes later the teller finished counting her drawer. TEN MINUTES. It took her TEN MINUTES to count her drawer.
Okay, really. I know Monday mornings are notoriously crazy and busy at a bank. But ten minutes to count a drawer? It should have taken her 2 or 3 or at the most maybe 5, but ten?
Of course she was off. She apologized up and down. She sent me the cash (which I counted again) and I left.
I am not exaggerating when I tell you that I sat in that drive-through for twenty minutes. Twenty minutes.TWENTY MINUTES!
I must calm down. I'm not supposed to get excited. My blood pressure. (That's for you, Pops. What movie, what movie?)
My blood pressure is actually very good. But I'm pretty sure it was elevated by that point.
*Deep breath, deep breath.*
I got on the road and followed the GPS directions to my destination. When I got to the neighborhood I started going around in circles. For some reason the GPS wasn't able to get me to the right road. So finally I stopped at an intersection and called the seller again. "I can't seem to find your street," I said. I gave him the street names of the intersection I was stopped at. There was a long pause.
"Are you in Marlton?" he asked.
I was not in Marlton. I was in Medford.
I had gone to the wrong town.
Oh, sooooo embarrassing. When I started entering the street address into the GPS a couple of suggestions popped up and instead of choosing the one in Marlton I sent myself to a similar address in Medford.
Have I mentioned that it was Monday morning?
Thankfully the towns are fairly close together; the seller was not in a hurry and kindly waited for me; and once I put the correct address into the GPS I got there with no more trouble.
The stove was nice and because I was so late and it was such a good price I did not haggle at all. The seller helped me load it into the back of the truck and the Phebis and I drove to the little white house and FIL met me and helped me unload it into the garage.
And hereafter I will always carefully double-check any address I enter into the GPS.