Fan Fiasco

By Sam Burnham

So it's warm outside. That's Georgia in May. It's not a big deal as long as you're used to it and know what to do about it.

So I made a gallon of sweet tea, vacuumed out all the returns on the trusty A/C unit and turned on some fans...

Great. My oldest son's box fan wasn't working. A short? It wouldn't be fashionable for me to have to call the local fire department for a myriad of reasons. So, being thrifty (my coworkers prefer "tightwad") I decided to fix the fan.

It was a simple task, actually. I found a few loose wires. No problem at all...at least not until the cheap plastic on the switch housing made a crunching noise that made colorful vocabulary words build up on my tonsils. I didn't let them get past my uvula. (That's the dangly thing that hangs down in the back of your throat. I've been told mine rattles at night, creating a sound that makes colorful vocabulary words build up on my wife's tonsils but I've never been awake to prove it.) I knew the fan was kaput.

My wife needed gas in her car anyway so I made an outing of it. A fill up and a trip to the neighborhood discount store.

It's not a big place and you'd assume something the size of a household box fan would be easy to find...but it ain't.

I found some tools. A ladder. Home pregnancy tests. Macaroni and cheese. A doggie bed. A floor lamp. Kitty litter. Cleaning supplies. Etc.

I was leaving an aisle of adult diapers, headed towards the DVD players when I encountered a man explaining to his children, "women have the best deodorant." When they questioned his assertion he continued, "It's true. 75% of all male prisoners that are locked up request women's deodorant over men's because it lasts longer." I wondered for a second how he knew such a thing. Then there was the validity of his sample. Sort of gives a whole new meaning to "control group".

What ever happened to "4 out of 5 doctors" or "Choosy moms"?

You can't make this stuff up.

I made another lap around the gift cards. I knew the gig was up. I was going to have to ask for help. So I saw a man shelving light bulbs. Yes! Help is here.

I'm not trying to talk bad about a man trying to put in an honest day of work but my newfound friend probably doesn't speak English at home. And "box fan" got lost somewhere in translation. I made a circular motion with my arm and he appeared to become more confident with his understanding of my request. He walked off his aisle and pointed, directing me towards "the corner".

I reverted back to my worried state vis-a-vis his understanding of "box fan". That corner houses night gowns, pantyhose, women's shoes, and underwear. I hesitate to use the term "lingerie". In this particular establishment it's probably more like "lawn-jar-ay".

But then I saw them. Perched on a high shelf was a row that looked to be three deep. Two different styles of ceiling fans and two different styles of box fans. The box fans seemed to be emitting a golden aura that beckoned to me like The Grail to Gallahad.

I thanked my retail Sherpa and meandered through the muumuus and house shoes until I stood beneath the fans...and directly in front of a peg loaded down with lime green thongs, complete with hot pink trim. There were some black lace boy shorts that didn't appear to fit anyone in the building, including the deodorant researcher.

I'm honestly trying to decide on a fan. So seeing that there are two, I grab one of each and hastily scurried for the door. I paid a very friendly lady for the fans and then headed out the front door, hopefully toward easier to locate goals.

My wife explained that the combination might have something to do with "the change". I'm skeptical about that but I am wondering if Victoria's Secret carries box fans.