Tuesday night I looked down the stairs into the basement, and there was water all around my hot water heater. I knew that meant it was time for a new one, so the next day I went over to the plumber’s.
“How can I help you?” the man behind the counter asked.
“I want two things,” I said. “I want sympathy. And I want an appointment for someone to come and look at my water heater.”
He smiled. “I can give you so much sympathy you won’t be able to haul it all out of the store,” he said. Then he turned to his assistant, who looked through the scheduling book.
“We could probably get someone there tomorrow morning,” the assistant said.
“That would be great,” I said.
“Now,” he asked, “do you have a gas water heater or electric?”
There was a pause. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” I said.
As I walked out the door, he called, “Don’t forget your sympathy!” So I pretended I was Santa hauling out a big bag.
Got home and the basement was bone dry. We’d had some heavy rain, and I had forgotten that my basement always floods when it rains hard. My water heater didn’t need to be replaced, after all.
I went back to the plumber. “Well, it’s a gas heater,” I said. “And it’s fine. The basement was flooded from the rain.”
He looked me in the eye and said, “I want my sympathy back.”