Why Asking for Help Felt Like Losing: One Repair Call
He walked across his yard with his hands in his pockets, stopped at the edge of the driveway where I was working on his neighbor's unit, and said, "Storm got mine too, whenever you get a minute." It was the second week of July, the morning after a thunderstorm rolled through Kingfisher. The power had blinked on and off half the night and then quit for a few hours. When it came back, a fair number of air conditioners did not come back with it. I had three calls off the same block before I finished my coffee. The street was brick ranch houses from the late seventies, one condenser on a pad…
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