It was my first day on the job as a Tapping Air Conditioner Repairman. And I had only one assignment that day: Mr and Mrs Bob Wilton at 134 James St.
I parked the truck, got my tool kit, and got out. But before entering, I practiced what I was going to say to them:
"Hello. I am your Tapping Air Conditioner Repairman. . . Hello, ma'am, I am your Tapping Air Conditioner Repairman."
"When I felt I got it right, I went to the door and knocked.
Mrs Wilton appeared. She was in her 20's, and had long black hair that was in a braid. She had on a t-shirt and short pants, and was barefooted.
She was beautiful and sexy as hell!
"Hi! I'm. . . I'm an air conditioner!" I stammered!
She smiled. "I'm sure you are! Come in!"
"Th-thank you, ma'am!"
She led me inside. And then I noticed something else about her: Her clothes and hair were wet, as if she'd just gone swimming with her clothes on!
"You're wet, Mrs Wilton!" I blurted out.
"It's been so hot that I took a quick shower with my clothes on."
"Oh! Well, I'll soon fix that, ma'am!"
She took me to the unit, and I began my work. She patiently watched me. Within less than 20 minutes, I had it going, again.
"It's fixed! It'll take a few minutes for the house to cool down."
"Wonderful, thank you! Would you like a glass of iced tea? I brewed it myself."
"That would be nice, thank you. I need to make out your invoice, anyway."
She led me to the kitchen. She filled two glasses with ice, then the tea, and gave me one of them.
"Down the hatch!" she said.
I was still a little nervous and I spilled the drink all over my shirt!
"Oops, sorry about that!"
"You'll have to get that cleaned immediately! Here, give it to me, and I'll put it in the washing machine."
"Uh, that won't be necessary!"
I took my shirt off and gave it to her. She went away with it. While she was gone, I started to write up my invoice. She returned a few minutes later. She had changed into dry clothes, but was still barefooted.
"I'm sorry, but I have to charge you for a full hour, even though I was here less than that—company policy."
"Actually, it's not as bad as I thought it was going to be. You can sit down on the couch, while the shirt gets cleaned. You don't have any other jobs to go to, do you?"
"Not today, thank you."
We sat on the couch and watched game shows together. We talked small talk occasionally. She got up to put the clothes into the dryer, and also give me a fresh glass of iced tea. Then she got up again, later on, to get the clothes.
It was during this when Mr Wilton came in!
"WHO ARE YOU?!" he demanded.
"I'm. . . I'm. . . I'm an air conditioner!"
"You don't look like an air conditioner to me!"
"What I mean is, I'm. . . I came here. . . that is-"
"He came to fix our air conditioner," said Mrs Wilton. She had come back in with my shirt. "He spilled tea on his shirt, so I washed it for him. And here it is."
She gave it back to me, and I put it on. "Thank you, ma'am."
"Well, it does feel cooler here," he said. His voice was calmer now—thank God!
"Oh, here's the bill." She gave it to him.
He took his wallet out and paid me, even giving me a tip."
"Thank you, sir! Well, I'd better be heading out."
"Thanks again," she said.
"Any time, ma'am; for I am your Tapping Air Conditioner Repairman!" I got it right, finally!
They both laughed, and I shook their hands.
I eventually became good friends with the two of them. When their system finally conked out, I installed a new one in for them.