I own a restaurant. I would never, ever, ever advise anyone to open a restaurant. Unless you don’t want a life. Or friends. And limited family time.
And if you insist you must do so, make sure your spouse is a practiced handyman/woman. Sometimes, that will save you some cash. Sometimes.
My day actually started last night, Sunday. Or maybe it was 2 months ago when we acquired the demon possessed microwave. Hey, it was twenty bucks, and who knew?
Our first clue should have been when the turntable would spin in happy circles all by itself. If we stopped it to warm a biscuit, it would sit there all dark and do-nothing. After several door slammings and button clearings and restartings, it would finally run for the 22 seconds we begged for, to warm the damn biscuit.
Then about a month ago, it started throwing the breaker. The same breaker that operates the outdoor neons and the vestibule light. So between random spinning and refusal to operate, we were constantly resetting the breaker.
So I had my husband, the handyman, replace the breaker. After which, none of the above worked. So we had to make the toaster share an outlet with the microwave. They got along most of the time. But the lights still didn’t work. Poop.
Getting to last night…husband went to the restaurant after closing to “fix” the wiring. He ran new wire, installed a new outlet. Put the microwave on it’s very own breaker, no more sharing.
He plugged it in. It started spinning happy circles all by itself. After several door slammings he got it to stop. Then set it for 22 seconds. POP! went the breaker. And evidently the fuse in the microwave as well. It would no longer run at all. Dead reactor. Crap.
I was torn about this. I wasn’t sad about losing a demon possessed microwave. However, microwave shopping at 10:00pm wasn’t on my list of fave things to do. But Wait! I have an extra microwave at home. I can get it there in the morning. By 5:00am. TA DA!
Actually it was closer to 5:45am. I did get my book work done early. And this microwave didn’t spin without permission. And I got home way earlier than usual. In time for the husband to go back and fix the other outlet. Again. All good.
Until the phone rang. New breaker. Checked wiring. Plugged in the microwave. Display lit, with no demon-y dancing. Set the timer for 22 seconds. POP! went the breaker. And evidently the fuse in the microwave as well. It would no longer run at all. Dead reactor. Shit.
He’s microwave shopping as I type.
Renee McKinley enjoys reading, crocheting, bowling and her iPod. And randomly ranting about things that randomly please her, annoy her, or just passes through her mind.