Apt

With summer finally upon us, I needed some air-conditioning in my new apartment.  So naturally I called Abt.

(For all of you non-Chicagoans, Abt Electronics is a huge, family-owned, independent retailer of consumer electronics, major appliances and furniture. Founded in 1936 by Jewel and David Abt on $800, it now reigns supreme on thirty-seven acres out in Glenview.  It’s got a sixty-five thousand square foot sales floor and eleven hundred employees.)

As Jackie Mason would say, Abt is not a business.  It’s a gold mine.

I knew exactly what I wanted, and on the appointed day, two very nice guys with some very big boxes walked in.  I showed them where to install the units (this is a vintage apartment building. Window units only.  And that’s ok with me, btw.  I am ALWAYS cold. I despise a.c. and only use it when the humidity threatens to turn my digs into a terrarium.)

Then I got out of their way.  Or at least, I started to.

Before I could exit the premises, the younger of the two service repair guys said matter-of-factly, “My iPhone is dead.  Do you have a charger?”

I was a little surprised.

It seemed a tad unprofessional- both the dead phone and the casual request for a jump start.  But hey, I aim to please.  And so I dug out another power cord and plugged it in for him in the kitchen.

By this time, the more senior of the two was hard at work. But he couldn’t find some important missing piece, and so he asked his helper to find it for him.  It couldn’t be found.

Then the two of them then went out in the service hall to continue the hunt, and as they came back in, I heard the magic words, “In-N-Out Burger” cross Younger Serviceman Number 2’s lips.

I was riveted.  What did a Chicago guy know about In-N-Out?

“Excuse me.  I couldn’t help overhearing.  Did you just say ‘In-N-Out Burger?'”

“Yeah,” he grinned.  “I’m from LA and I love it.”

“Animal Style?”

“Yep.  And Animal Style on the fries, too.”

“What’s that?” I queried.

“Onions and sauce on top and really well done,” he graciously filled me in.

Okay.  I had just learned a helpful fry tip.

“Where do you stand on Apple Pan?”  I wanted to check him out further- burger-wise.

“It’s my favorite.  And their banana cream pie is the best!” he assured me.

We then exchanged photos on our phones of Apple Pan hamburgers.  Mine being the classic.  His- the hickoryburger.

“Where do you live in LA?” I now wanted to know.  “My son lives there.”

“Where does he live?” the kid asked me.

“Right now he and his wife are in Studio City.  But they lived in Palos Verdes and would love to go back there.”

“PV!  I go to school there.  Marymount College.  Have you ever heard of it?  This is just my summer job.”

“Oh sure.  My daughter-in-law had a best friend who went there.  I know exactly where it is.  It’s gorgeous.”

By this time, as you can probably gather, Service Guy Number 1 had moved to the next unit.  And I was getting nervous.  Service Guy Number 2 hadn’t done a tap of work.  I didn’t want to get him in trouble, but somehow he didn’t seem real worried.

Our talk then turned to pizza.  Me- Gino’s, Due’s, Pizano’s.  Him –  Mozza in La, Pequod’s and Lou Malnati’s in Chicago.

For the pie record:  LA pizza fails. I don’t care how much smoked salmon or sea urchin roe they put on it.

Then more hamburgers.  Me- Superdawg and Beinlich’s.  Him- Au Cheval.

Hold up!

Au Cheval?

No offense, but it’s hip, hard to get into and very happening.  I can’t get a table any time I want.

I didn’t want to be a snob or a conclusion-jumper, but something was not making sense with this guy. Why would a kid from LA have a summer job in Chicago?  And how did this blue collar gig pay for all these pricey eats?

But soon the talk turned to the music scene. Another favorite topic of mine.  The Grammys?  Cool.  I’ve been.  He’s been.  The Coachella Music Festival?  He told me that I would dig it.  I bet I would.

Steak houses?  No problem.  Mastro’s (the one in LA that was formerly Chasen’s.  MY all-time favorite restaurant. He’d been to both, too.  Naturally.)

Gibson’s? Joe’s?  He liked them both.

Then on to Aspen.  He prefers to ski the Highlands.  I ski Snowmass

Meanwhile, ALL the a.c. was now installed and the it was time for clean up.

I was sorry to see him go.  I was really interested in getting his take on the Brooklyn hipster scene and his opinion on the pool at the Eden Roc.  (The one in the south of France.  Not Florida.)

“Thanks, guys,” I said.  “You did a great job.  Here. (proffering two ten dollar bills.) Go  and buy yourself some beer.”

“Thanks, ma’am,” said Repair Man Number 1 graciously.

“Oh, thanks,” added his (non) helper.

“And you both did such a good job that I’m going to tell Bobby Apt.  I’ve known him forever.  He was my ex husband’s roommate at college, you know.”

“He’s my grandpa,” said Service Unrepair Guy 2.

Ah.

The light came on. All became crystal clear.

Now I got why a Cali kid had a summer job in Chicago.  Why an overall-clad, table-hopping, non-installing, personable young man wasn’t afraid that he was going to get fired if he chatted up the lady of the house and never wielded a wrench.

And why he led a more jet set life than Charlotte Casiraghi.

I certainly hope he put my ten spot to good use towards his seafood tower at Gibson’s later.

And I’ve got my fingers crossed that he filled out a good service report about me.

Abt Service Report

Date of call: 7/7/14

Name of customer: Ellen Ross

Time of call: 2 hours

Service completed: Yes

Was customer prompt?: Yes

Did customer offer cold beverage?: Yes

Was customer courteous?: Yes

Was customer a good tipper?: Yes

Was customer a fair restaurant reviewer?: Yes

Would you recommend this customer to other repairmen in the area?: Yes

Overall Performance Rating on this customer: A

Btw, do you think the assistant needs an assistant?

I’m calling Bobby.