I’ve been having fantasies about my washing machine. No, it’s not what you think. I have absolutely no plans to sit on it during the spin cycle (it wouldn’t even work if I wanted it to anyway). The fantasies are more like that scene in Office Space where the guys kidnap the office printer and take it out to a field somewhere, ritualistically beating the absolute Christ out of it with baseball bats in a primal way.
My washing machine is a fxxxing smartarse. As such it needs a belting.
At least once a week when I’m doing the washing, the stupid thing will keep stopping mid-cycle for no reason. If you leave the house and come home expecting the washing to be ready to hang out, you can lock it in, Eddie, that the fxxxing thing will have stopped the second you were out the front door and you’ll spend the next three hours wrangling with the stupid device to get it done.
It goes a little something like this:
1.Washing machine clicks off.
2. I lift lid and close it again. Washing machine starts up.
3. I walk out of the laundry room.
4. Washing machine stops instantly.
5. I go back, lift lid, jiggle the clothes around to adjust the load. Close lid. Washing machine starts up.
6. I walk out of room
7. Steps 1-6 repeated another four or five times.
8. Frustrated, I stand next to the washing machine for three or four minutes and then, satisfied that it won’t stop again for no reason mid-cycle, I leave the room.
9. Washing machine stops the second I am out the door.
10. Swear and kick the machine a few times.
11. Repeat all of the above steps for an hour.
See it’s not the random stopping that annoys me the most (although it is quite annoying) so much as the washing machine’s seeming ability to sense when I am no longer in the room, hovering nearby to rectify the situation when it stops. When it’s playing up it doesn’t matter if I stand next to it for five seconds or five minutes – it just seems to know the exact second I leave the room and decides to turn itself off then. You know, just to fxxx with me. As such, I want to have it killed.
I guess it is time to put it out to pasture and get a new one. I bought it nine years ago and – along with my fridge – was my first serious “grown up” purchase. My, how I’ll gloat at the fxxxer when it’s sitting on the nature strip sometime soon, awaiting the local council’s hard rubbish collection truck to take it away and give it an undignified burial somewhere. Where's your smug sense of self-satisfaction now, whitegood? So should I s*** can it or fix it. any ideas??
My washing machine is a fxxxing smartarse. As such it needs a belting.
At least once a week when I’m doing the washing, the stupid thing will keep stopping mid-cycle for no reason. If you leave the house and come home expecting the washing to be ready to hang out, you can lock it in, Eddie, that the fxxxing thing will have stopped the second you were out the front door and you’ll spend the next three hours wrangling with the stupid device to get it done.
It goes a little something like this:
1.Washing machine clicks off.
2. I lift lid and close it again. Washing machine starts up.
3. I walk out of the laundry room.
4. Washing machine stops instantly.
5. I go back, lift lid, jiggle the clothes around to adjust the load. Close lid. Washing machine starts up.
6. I walk out of room
7. Steps 1-6 repeated another four or five times.
8. Frustrated, I stand next to the washing machine for three or four minutes and then, satisfied that it won’t stop again for no reason mid-cycle, I leave the room.
9. Washing machine stops the second I am out the door.
10. Swear and kick the machine a few times.
11. Repeat all of the above steps for an hour.
See it’s not the random stopping that annoys me the most (although it is quite annoying) so much as the washing machine’s seeming ability to sense when I am no longer in the room, hovering nearby to rectify the situation when it stops. When it’s playing up it doesn’t matter if I stand next to it for five seconds or five minutes – it just seems to know the exact second I leave the room and decides to turn itself off then. You know, just to fxxx with me. As such, I want to have it killed.
I guess it is time to put it out to pasture and get a new one. I bought it nine years ago and – along with my fridge – was my first serious “grown up” purchase. My, how I’ll gloat at the fxxxer when it’s sitting on the nature strip sometime soon, awaiting the local council’s hard rubbish collection truck to take it away and give it an undignified burial somewhere. Where's your smug sense of self-satisfaction now, whitegood? So should I s*** can it or fix it. any ideas??
