AC Man

Posted on July 25, 2003 in Encounters Weather

All week he has been disassembling air conditioners, running tests, checking fuses, checking for leaks, climbing into hot attics, working until ten at night, and never getting to sit down in his own place to enjoy the cool. The clients tend to be angry and cranky. When I saw him dragging himself up the stairs, his skin blown dry like the sandstone ridges that jut out of the hillsides around these parts, I offered him a cold Coke. He declined and did his job.

Companies are turning huge profits because they are cutting service. Everyone wants that home in Dove Canyon or Coto de Caza. So they cut their workforce, they keep the ones who will stay on despite the lousy pay and benefits, and they buy their dream houses where centralized fans blow them cool.

And the AC man has to work tomorrow. All day. Until ten at night.

“It’s like Friday night at the bank,” he told me. “You know when they only have two tellers.”

He took off the top of the unit (which I never saw them do last year — this is a new company) and pulled out a black metal tag which had the information he wanted. The previous company had removed an exterior plate with important information. He had to dig in the oily guts to find the knowledge he sought. More work. He took the information, had me sign the paperwork, and took my check for $45. At nearly 5 in the afternoon, he had another job to do. Some self-important yuppie who couldn’t be bothered to take an afternoon off or some worker like himself who couldn’t afford to do so.

Life in George W. Bush’s America. It’s like looking at the clouds passing overhead during July and missing the rain. That’s how trickle-down economics works. It just passes over, leaving you hot and dessicated.