fagor1

This is it – the new washing machine!

As I mentioned over here, my landlord finally agreed to split the cost of a new machine 50/50, and his daughter recommended a Samsung model for about 300 euros that she has at home and is very pleased with.  I was to have it delivered and installed here on Friday, but of course, things are never that simple or easy.  Turned out the store was out of that model until further notice, which meant I had to (eep!) go out to the suburbs yesterday to see what else could be found…

First of all I should point out that I have never bought a washing machine before and didn’t realise there were so many options, especially with drum sizes.  And so, as I had ended up way out there in no man’s land without a clue as to the size of the machine  drum at home,  I opted for an average-sounding 6 kilo one (they ranged from 5-8 kilos).  Is that a good size? Will I be able to wash duvets and blankets in it?

And so after about an exhausting hour of back and forth phone calls to Pepe we finally agreed on the 6 kilo Fagor pictured above.  I had also found a 7 kilo machine for the same price but Pepe wouldn’t go for it, saying it was “excessive and unnecessary”. Huh? We argued about that for ages because it just didn’t make sense to me to get the smaller one if they were both good brands and the price was the same, and yet all Pepe would do was repeat that it was too big for me and accuse me of being stubborn (moi?). But I had logic on my side and, okay, maybe I am just the eensiest bit stubborn … in any case, Pepe finally yelled at me “Oh, just do whatever you want!”, and then disconnected his mobile phone.  At which point I ordered the 6 kilo Fagor, texted him with the news about an hour later, and then he phoned back and we both apologised and “made up”.

Don’t ask. This always happens when Pepe and I try to negotiate a deal, only usually it’s done in person with lots of arm waving and yelling on his part, as well as plenty of arm waving, eye rolling and sighing on mine (I’ve picked up the arm waving thing from him).  If I really want to play dirty I’ll start crying, though sometimes I end up crying without wanting to.  At various times we’ve stormed out of each other’s apartments in anger and frustration, saying stuff like “You’re impossible! I just can’t talk to you!”.  But we always go back and make up.  It’s been like this for 15 years now and so I guess it’s kind of our schtick.

Thing is, we both really like each other, but I think we are also both hoping that nothing else breaks in the near future. And luckily there are still a few months before the annual rent increase negotiations (Pepe: “Don’t give me that face!” Me:  “I don’t understand this, there are too many numbers.” Pepe: “You know I’m always fair, remember that time when…” Me: “Why are you smoking? You’re going to give yourself another heart attack!” Pepe: “Yeah yeah, but this should really be more, look at my calculations…” Me: “You’re making me dizzy, I have to go home now”  etc etc). . .

Anyhoodle, should have the new machine by Tuesday.  🙂