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Sunday, July 21, 2013

I Love Georgian Service: Part 2. The Conditioner

How many Georgians does it take to change a light bulb? Legion is thy name.
Here is the chronicle of how we were getting an air cooler…
First, we had to decide that we truly need it. Then, the management had to decide that we truly need it. Then, logically, the logistics co-worker had to figure out where to buy it, how to buy it, invoices, prices. And then, at last, at that blessed day of the last Monday, the air conditioner arrived.
We rejoiced and danced tribal dances around it. Our happiness was short-lived. Alas, nothing last forever, even fondest moments of life. Some part of the goddamned air cooler was in conflict with another part, peace between them—unattainable and that’s how the conditioner guys left us.
They promised to bring us the missing soul mate part on Tuesday. They promised to bring us the part on Wednesday. They promised to fucking bring us the part on Thursday. By Friday, we evaporated; our aimless, overheated bodies floated over the desks and computers and the sweat dripped so much that it later condensed to a huge cloud and rained on the whole city.
They promised to come on Saturday. They promised to come on Sunday.
My co-worker called them on Monday. And they…promised to come on Monday.
I called the service center on Tuesday. They said the part was in the warehouse. I called the warehouse. They promised to bring the part that day. Having heard that, I started having convulsions and foam dripped from my mouth. Stuttering, I asked them to be honest and  name the day of the week they may actually show up. I told them that this was an office and that we leave at 6.
Afterwards, I stayed late in the office. That almost never happens. At 8:00 P.M., I heard a knock on the door. The conditioner guy brought the part. Our logistics person rushed in soon and looked surprised at me. I was in the office, alone, with a conditioner guy. Cue porn music.
Apparently, all 12 people that he has been calling about the conditioner called him to inform him that THE MISSING PART was in the office. So he rushed to it. Anyway, they brought up THE PART and they left. And they promised to send guys that would put the cooler up, well, you guessed it, next day. According to some secret air conditioning code, the guy that brings THE PART cannot be the guy that hooks it up.
The morning in the office started as usual today. After watering the plants and making coffee, I habitually called THE SERVICE CENTER. Be warned that no one answers till noon. At noon I told the girl that if we don’t feel the cool breeze on our cracked, dried-up skins by 4, I will call again. At 3:30, nothing indicated that they would, you know, come. So, I called again. No one at THE SERVICE CENTER could understand why was I so mad. They said they would come. What else could they do? Except maybe repeat it one more time.
The conditioner silently lay on the floor, all of its parts intact. I gave up fruitless attempts to work in a drenched T-shirt and started typing this post. And then…oh my god, I can’t type it straight…my emotions are taking over…and then…they came….they came…they actually came!!!
Now, a week and two days after its purchase, just a week before we leave for a month-long vacation, these guys are trying to put it up on the wall and I am afraid, god, I am afraid that some part won’t work again and that they will leave, leave me forever.
The company’s name Vestel, by the way.
P.S. the pic: the miracle conditioner


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