The following morning, I decided what I was going to do.
But before anything else, I wanted to make sure I wasn’t being unreasonable.
On Monday, I took the mixer to an appliance repair shop.
The technician behind the counter was named Greg and looked as though he had been fixing appliances since my mixer first came out of the box.
He turned it over.
Opened the housing.
Inspected the motor.
Then asked:
“What were you mixing?”
“I wasn’t.”
He looked up.
“My neighbor borrowed it.”
“Ah.”
That single sound
