Best Buy, or not so Best Buy...

We have not sold our house. We have reduced the price, which has generated precisely zero extra interest. We will therefore have to discuss Plan B with our realtor, which involves leaving the house empty behind us, for her to sell, and for a management company to look after, all the while paying the mortgage and utilities. That feels like the biggest waste of money since (oops, was about to make bad taste joke about the Titanic, just stopped myself). We haven't worked out Plan B yet. That's this week's job. Not the most appealing prospect, I have to say.

There is one person who I really, really want to buy the house. That would be the person who says "From the picture, I anticipated that the kitchen might be out-dated, but when I saw that fabulous brand-new Samsung range, I was won over. That was the clincher for me."

You want to know why? Well, it's because that would make worthwhile the $500, and the hassle, and the waiting in for delivery, and the 45 minutes on the phone to the Best Buy Geek Squad, which led to the conclusion that we bought a new range, which we didn't need. What we needed to do was remember that our fuse box is geriatric and moody, and that if you don't carefully love and fondle each switch before clicking it back into place, and then carefully love and fondle it again after doing so, then it won't stay, but will click out again, quietly and secretly when your back is turned.

Looking on the bright side... I now know how a range behaves when it's pulling 110 volts instead of 220, because I've seen two of them - one old, one brand spanking new - perform the trick. (I thought electricity was either on or off; I didn't know it could be on-ish.) Who knows when that could come in useful? I also know that when a Best Buy delivery man turns on four hobs, waits 5 seconds, waves his hand over the top of them and declares "yup, working fine", what he really means is "it'll probably work fine, and I'm off now". Another piece of knowledge that I've acquired in the process is that if you use the word 'cooker', Americans don't immediately know what you're referring to, and may even think you have domestic staff.

I also know that the Best Buy customer service phone line plays the most noisy, irritating and aggressive music possible. Why would they do that? Why wouldn't they have chosen something soothing and calming? Greensleeves perhaps, or Eine Kleine Nachtmusik? Or something appropriately themed, selected according to the appliance that is causing the trouble? For me it could have been Pat-a-cake Pat-a-cake Baker's Man, or Sing a Song of Sixpence (four and twenty blackbirds - remember?), or Can she bake a cherry pie, Billy Boy, Billy Boy?, or You'll always find me in the Kitchen at Parties, or Hey Good Lookin', What ya got Cookin'? Blimey, SO many possibilities.

Anyway, back to the bright side, and  (and this really has been a bit of a bright side), I haven't had to cook for a week, which maybe, on mature reflection, was actually in itself worth $500 (not counting the cost of the Chinese bistro buffet at Dillons and the pizzas). I would break that down into $250 for the joy of not having to face the "What shall I do for dinner?" question every day, and $250 for the expression on two of my children's faces when I told them "Look on it as your golden opportunity to learn to love salad".

Come on, Universe.  I bought a new oven which I didn't need, which means that some Oven-Reconditioner somewhere at the very end of the Best Buy  chain of sub-contractors is happy, because he's got a perfectly-functioning oven when he expected an old wreck. The least you can do is send me a buyer for my house.