TOO-FAR-BORAC

So, my washing machine is playing up and needs a service.  Great.

Any time something like this happens, I inwardly groan, because the first thing I’m going to hear from a local repairer is ‘You’re too far away.’

Since when did travelling half an hour become too far away?  I must admit that I have relatives that live within half an hour but won’t come and visit, because we’re ‘too far away’.  It’s deplorable.

However, a repairer is being paid for his services; surely he will travel that far?

This is why Charlie and I have dubbed Tooborac: Too-far-borac.  It’s just ‘too far’.

So I ring LG, and explain that my machine is died.

Now, I will say this: after pressing a couple of buttons to tell them what I was ringing for, someone answered straight away, AND they weren’t from a call centre in India.  I could actually understand them; they could understand me, AND they knew where I lived and what the closest service centre would be. Incredible.  I’m glad I was sitting down.

So they refer me on to an appliance service centre in Kilmore, and I grin to myself, because I’ve used these people before.

So the number I have been given is a mobile, right, and over the course of an hour, I ring it numerous times, and it’s engaged.  Constantly engaged.  WTF happened to voicemail?  Engaged? Old school inconvenient.

So eventually, this dude answers, but there’s all sorts of noise in the background, and I can’t hear him very well.

‘Hi, I’ve been referred to you by LG to service my washing machine.’

‘Yep.’  Then nothing.

‘Are you there?’

‘Yes, I’m listening.’ He said calmly.  Great.  I’ve got a spanker on the other end of the phone.  You know, one of those guys that doesn’t say much, but somehow manages to emit the feeling that you’ve interrupted him in the middle of something extremely important, and he’s doing you a favour by even answering the phone.  Fucken wonderful.

‘Oh… I’m sorry… there’s just a lot of voices in the background, and I can’t hear you very well…’

‘I’m at the post office.’ Clearly, something incredibly important. ‘What can I help you with?’

‘My washing machine?’ I already fucken told you.  ‘LG have referred me to you, as it needs a service.’

‘Ok.  Where do you live?’ 

Here we go.  ‘Tooborac.’

‘Mmm… that’s a little out of my area…’

‘LG said you were the closest.’ I said sharply.

‘What exactly is wrong with the machine?’

If I fucken knew that, I wouldn’t need to ring you, would I? ‘The temperature panel is just flashing, and the machine won’t start it’s cycle.  LG advised that it is asking for a service.’

‘Oh.  Well, I’m at the post office at the moment,’ apparently, he’s at the post office.  Deadly important.  ‘And I haven’t my diary with me.  I’ve your number on my mobile now, so I will call you back shortly when I have my diary in front of me.’  He spoke in such a tone, that it left no doubt he though I was a fucken idiot.

‘Ok.’  Fucken fabulous.  I have to endure more of this shit.

‘As you are a little out of my area, I may not be able to get there until next Monday…’

‘Well, how ‘bout you check that diary out, and see what miracles you can perform, hey?’ I said happily.

‘No worries.  I’ll give you a call back soon.’

How simply delightful.  I can’t wait for this.

And I swear to you, if I hear ‘travel fee’ and ‘too far’ mentioned at any stage during the conversation, travelling to Toofarborac is going to be the least of his fucken concerns.