You can watch football any time. Super Bowl Sunday is the best shopping day of the year. That’s why I waited patiently until then to get my new washing machine.
It’s not that I don’t like going to the laundromat from time to time. What could be more fun, unless it’s beating your clothes with rocks in the San Joaquin River? But my big dog poodle, who is smart enough to distinguish between Havarti and Swiss cheese, does not understand “Off. Right now. Louie, on the count of three.” So I need a machine that will hold the mess that is Louie.
That brought MyHusbandTheEngineer and me to Best Buy on Super Bowl Sunday with Louie’s binky, facedown, in my arms.
Salesman: “How can I help you?”
Me: “We’d like to see your Whirlpool Cabrio washing machine.”
Salesman: “Fine. We carry Maytag, Samsung, Frigidaire and, this is your lucky day, Whirlpool, washers. Right this way.”
Me: “Please just lead us to the Whirlpool Cabrio, 4.8 cubic feet, 27-5/8” x 45-1/8” x 27-1/2”, front loading washer with sanitary cycle. In white. My husband is an engineer; don’t even try to change our minds.”
This was his lucky day. He could keep watching the Super Bowl on his smart phone. He led us to the spot where the Cabrio sat and opened the lid. I swear it had an aura.
Me: “It’s missing a part. Where’s the middle thingy?”
Salesman: “This is the most revolutionary, avant-garde, eco-friendly, technology-forward, machine ever invented. It has no spindle. You pay more because it has less.”
Who am I to argue with Wall Street marketing genius? So I stuffed Louie’s binky into the tub. Room to spare!
“What am I supposed to do with all those buttons (thirty)?” I asked him.
“Read the manual.”
“Won’t happen. Don’t you give classes on this thing? My iPhone has fewer buttons, and Apple gives classes.”
“Surely a woman of your maturity has grandchildren,” he smiled.
I was just about to tell MyHusbandTheEngineer that he should to do more research, when a woman who appeared to be upgrading from a white to a platinum Cabrio interjected,
“You’ll love it! I just load the clothes and turn it over to my five-year-old. He knows which buttons to push and watches through the glass top—pretends he’s in a submarine looking for whales through the porthole. Hey, it’s cleaner programming than TV and endorsed by both Good Housekeeping and Parents Magazine.”
“But I don’t have kids at home,” I object.
“No problem,” says the salesman, “Just buy the Angry Birds app and the neighbor kids will flock to you.”
“Right!” the lady chimed in. “I got the ‘Grand Theft Auto’ app, and my teenager who went, you know, sideways, helps when he’s not too busy.”
MyHusbandTheEngineer was ignoring this completely, fixated on his next research project: dryers. We bought the Cabrio and left. I know when I’m ahead.
Clipart: Yayayoyo at featurepics.com