06 August 2011

The great air conditioner hunt

So we just went on a hunt for a window unit air conditioner to supplement the roof units on the magic bus. In this ridiculous fucking 105 degree heat with a 110+ heat index, we have been sweating inside our air conditioned home.

That is a condition that is absolutely intolerable. It makes no sense in this great nation that a working middle class family should be sweating inside their air conditioned home. I blame big oil, petrochemical corporations, and big-pharma for killing the fucking planet and its atmosphere so that global warming can threaten our existence.

Enough ranting about the teabaggers.

Back to the hunt.

We had breakfast at the little cafe across the street and then loaded up in the car with our faithful companion, Mollie.

First, we tried WalMart. No, we didn't leave the dog in the car. We put her in her puppy sling, strapped it to Mr. Sunshine, and she went in the WalMart with us. We wandered around for about 5 or 8 or so minutes looking for window units.
We were among the very few white faces there, which is only noted here because we were deliberately ignored because of the color of our skin. Lest you think I imagined this, let me describe my attempt to get an associate to point me to air conditioners.
I walked up to an associate who was pointing to cans of spray paint on a nearby shelf for a shopper. When the associate and the shopper saw me approaching, they walked over to the shelf and stood there, staring at cans of paint, not saying a word. For ten minutes.
So Mr. Sunshine, myself, and Mollie the puppy wandered off in search of air conditioners. We were in the store for about 30 minutes and NOBODY THREW US OUT FOR BRINGING A DOG.

Next stop: Lowe's. Puppy friendly store. They were sold out of window units. They said the nearby Sears had some.

Back in the car, headed to Sears; on the phone to every Sears, Target, Lowe's, Best Buy, Home Depot, and major pawn shop in town. Stopping at furniture stores, appliance centers, and pawn shops as we drive.

Finally, Max's pawn shop says another of their locations has one. Victory is within reach!

Or not.

They had window units. Three of them. All too big for our RV windows, which are notably small.

By this point, I've been in the fucking car for 5 hours with no food and no bathroom breaks. I'm ready to eat my left arm and piss into the hole that's left.

Yet there was a ray of hope. Two guys inside the Max's pawn shop had just spoken to Brittain's pawn shop on the other end of town, and they indeed had a window unit, but those two guys didn't want to drive that far.

Re-energized by this bit of good fortune, I forget about food for a moment and find the phone number for this Brittain's pawn shop. The kind gentleman who answered the phone actually took the time to measure the unit, and praise the littlebabyjeesus it will fit. I immediately start fighting Mr. Sunshine for his wallet, determined to do whatever it takes to secure this window unit for ourveryownselves. I would have run his card for eleventyhundred,eightyfive thousand,fourdollar-two-ninety-five to get this air conditioner; last night's checkbook wars and Mr. Sunshine be damned. When I ask the kind man what it would take to get them to hold the unit until we arrive, all he asks is "where are you now?", and upon hearing my location, he wrote my name on a piece of paper and taped it to the unit. They even let Mollie come inside with us to pay for it and also carried it out to the car for us.

At which point I realize that I am now hungry enough to eat Mr. Sunshine's rather muscular left arm, and I start demanding food.

Finally, we made it home to install our beautiful, shiny window unit air conditioner. I promise you that in the 108 seconds that it took us to open the window, shove the unit through, and cut foam insulation board to fill the gap--the temperature inside the magic bus went up by at least 22 degrees.

As for the gaps around the foam board, gaff tape. I promise you, gaff tape makes duct tape look weak. And I had a whole roll, a gift from my beautiful friend Elliot Vaughn or Vaughn Elliot or whatever order his names go in.

I told you guys a few posts back that @Reshaud truly gives a shit about me. Now you know. Also, @Reshaud doesn't let it bother him that his skin is black and mine is not. He thinks I'm OK in spite of it.

And now you know how I came to wander through a WalMart with my dog for half an hour without getting thrown out.

That is the story of the great air conditioner hunt.

That is all.
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T

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