A preface to my photo essay:
I love my Mom. She dropped by one day to help me out with something, and when she came to the door she had a gingerbread house kit in her hands. I’m pretty sure she can read my mind. That very week, I had seen the exact same gingerbread house kit and wanted to buy it, but didn’t. Call it Mom ESP. I thanked her and gave her a giant hug, and told her that I would be posting photos of the build. This post is my documentation of that build.
A preface to my photo essay:
It started out as just another ordinary afternoon. I was in the kitchen washing dishes in front of our open windows, casually gazing into the backyard as I gently scrubbed a plate.
As I looked down to rinse the clean dish, a dark shadow flew by the window. Simultaneously, I heard a whoosh.. And then a thud. My girlfriend, who was standing nearby in the kitchen, asked “Was that an air conditioner?”
Yes. Yes it was. Our upstairs neighbour’s air conditioner had just taken a leap out of her second story window, past ours, and landed unceremoniously in the garden.
We looked at each other with wide eyes, I dropped my dish. And we rushed outside. This is what we saw:
Looking up at the upstairs window, all we saw was the cord dangling out. Our neighbour’s head popped out the window. “I tried to save it,” she said, defeated, holding the plug in her hand. We started giggling. “It’s not funny, guys!” she exclaimed.. And then she started laughing too! “I hate my life!” was the last thing we heard before her head disappeared into the window.
We began to survey the wreckage just as our neighbour came downstairs. The poor thing lay in the garden, covered in dirt, a casualty of carelessness and precarious placement. The front had been torn off with the force of the final death blow. The metal sides were bent and mangled. “I just bought this…” She lamented.
I lifted it gently out of the dirt, as if trying to save it from it’s own burial, and carried it to the driveway.
We all sat down for a minute in the sun. It turns out she was attempting to move it from the back window to a side window, and failed. “But I lifted it myself before!” she said as she explained how it all happened.
My girlfriend assumed that all was lost. There was a lot of fluid leaking from it. I walked back over to the broken air conditioner’s body and poked around a little. “I think the tubes are all intact. We might be able to save it,” I said hopefully. And that’s all that needed to be said. We pounced into action!
With some wire strippers, a Swiss Army knife, and some electrical tape (and a few gnaws of the teeth), the wires were spliced together by my lovely lady.
“Lets go plug it in and see if it still runs!” I cheered, as I lifted it up and lugged it over to the outlet. We plugged it in and it beeped. A good sign! We were sure it wouldn’t work, or the digital display would fail, or the controls would be useless, or it would begin spewing dirt. We were wrong on all counts.
The frankenstein air conditioner chugged into life. I turned it on and pressed the ‘cool’ button. Cold air began churning out. We cheered triumphantly! Our neighbour was flabbergasted. “I have the best neighbours ever!”
We brought the revived unit upstairs to the intended window (right above my car, I might add. A second drop would NOT be amusing at this point!) and popped it in. We plugged it in and let her rip!
It wasn’t pretty, but it was working, and cooling the deadly-hot upper apartment! We jammed on the mangled face plate, and taped off the window.
Moral of the story: if you see an air conditioner fall out of a second story window, don’t assume all is lost. Find your local lesbians and have them take a look at it!