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I STOPPED IN AT A NEARBY appliance store today, searching out a washer to replace the one that Robert informed me (just this morning) had a very small leak. "I ran another load," he said, "before I called you--to make sure the leak was not an abnormal one."

Robert's got three distinctions: he's my oldest tenant, the one with the second-longest stay, and my very best one (though many of those terrific folks who call me 'The Landlord' [uh, huh...I'm only assuming that's what they call me] run a very close second). It didn't take long for me to decide that a brand-new washer was in order for Robert. (Everything in his charge gets meticulous care--what a fine attribute!)














Well, anyway, there I was in the store, and I soon realized that right near the counter where I was conferring with the salesman an unexpected activity was taking place. Unexpected by me, at any rate. The salesman was quick to explain that a local television channel films a cooking show in their store at regular intervals.
"Interesting," I said, and watched the chefs for a moment. "So if I were to scream, it would be on TV?"
The sales clerk gave me a slightly tentative look.
"Or...maybe...throw myself across the counter?!"
Now a smile flickered across his face.
"Yeah," he said. "yeah, that should do it."

Perhaps he wished I would break the monotony of his long afternoon.
If so, he was disapppointed (don't look for me on TV, Dear Reader), though he did write me up for a spanking-new washer.

And by Thursday noon, Robert will be doing his laundry in a totally abnormal-leak-free machine. There shouldn't be any of those pesky normal leaks either.


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