Psychology kidalovo Bashny.Net

My mother broke the fridge and I had to do it in repair, first - because I had once chose and bought, and secondly because - son.
Damage to a small but alarming - every day from the patient's unit there is a new pool of modest size of a puddle of nedoterpevshey fees ...

On the Internet, I spied a suitable site, phoned the master and the next day came to my mother, to whom it was important to inflate the cheeks and the house smelled of man understood in refrigerators.

At the appointed time he came to master fifty, with a small plastic case.
On the threshold he said he does not intend to take off one's shoes and asked the shoe.
I was surprised that only a shoe and not a shot against tetanus, and gave him two cheerful plastic package with a skein of scotch.
Gone are the kitchen, the master greeted the sick fridge and said:
 - Call plus diagnostics worth 800 rubles, if we are to repair, then all free diagnosis.
I nodded, Master quickly made for himself a burrow behind the refrigerator and hid it with his tester.
Peasant and called my mother and I heard a half conversation:
 - Ale ... yes ... it is possible, everything can be done ... and what have your plasma diagonal? ... 65? .. Well, let's see ... I do not know how much you need to watch, can nonsense, contact departed, and maybe ... I'm sorry, be free, You will type.

My mother and satisfaction peremignulis - master we caught removed and navseruchny.

And at this point, I suddenly remembered a long time ago - fifteen years ago, coming back from some trip, talking to one preprotivnym type, in addition to snipe drunk. Or rather - he talked to me, and I'm choosing between: turn it into a jug or blow occasionally nod chose - nod.

He was carrying some kind of nonsense that all the rich Muscovites loshka and he farm boy from the people, is committed to them for a little "shoe." Even the house in this currently otgrohal. And he worked in Moscow repairman anything that may break only ...
Even his scanty shemku "obuvaniya" drunk gave me, I do not really believe him then, but now, against the background of the unfolding events, remembered all the details.

Meanwhile, our master patient enough obtykal tentacles tester pokryakal sadly, got out, rustling bags, mink and tragically said:
 - Would your fridge horse, I would advise him to shoot.
 - I mean, it is more than two years do not have?
 - Well, look, I'll start with the main thing: the compressor is dead, the engine still runs, but judging by the winding, he left two or three months and will rise.
Go ahead, flew resistances defrost system, starting relay, also a substitute. Well, freon, leaked to the heap, but it is a trifle, as the saying goes - "taking off the head of hair do not cry." Total - 4500, 2700, 1900, plus the work - 3000, it turns out - 12100. Right? In my car, it's all there, like, I can make two hours and a refrigerator, as new. But I do not know, you decide.

Mom tragic looked at me and whispered:
 - Well, now I ... give up without a refrigerator. Where a repair? Cheaper to throw it away and buy new.

But I quietly but very strict mom winked and said our master:
 - Two hours talking about? Okay, go ahead. We repair.

I almost cried from his mother's pinch, but restrained himself.

Master:
 - Keep in mind that 12100 - this without replacing the motor.
 - I realized, I realized we hope that he is like, let's start time comes.
Master shrugged, took the suitcase with the tester and went down to his car for tools, compressors and other gizmos freon.

Fifteen minutes passed, then twenty, but the master did not return, I called him on his mobile and mechanical lady told me that my master is not currently available just like a Persian princess ...
I called an hour later and the spat, the man disappeared without a trace, but I got the trophy as they forgot a flashlight on the window sill.

P.S.
And my mother's frightened refrigerator for expensive I corrected myself, with the help of burned matches (drain hole cleared) Since pools are gone forever.

Well, the cost for the repair took a big plate of my mother's dumplings ...
© Grubas

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