The Cask of Amontilldryer

You'll notice (from my recent posts/phone calls/in-house conversations/incessant and all consuming obsession) that I have recently acquired a washer/dryer combo for my own personal use, through a perfectly legitimate means. The day of installation was to be Saturday.

Let us begin the rundown:

Saturday Morning

To begin, we had already placed both the washer and dryer into what was previously named our Trash Room, now dubbed the Laundry Room of Excellence (and Also Potential Untimely Death, but that comes later). I look at the systems for attaching both of them to their respective walls and decide that the washer looks far more complicated (there are things that screw into things, electrical plugs, and a very menacing looking tube) so I decide to do it first, figuring that an easy dryer will be my reward for all that hard work.

Attempt to move the washer backwards into position - Failed, washer is heavy. I'm like an ant straining away at the side of an entire sandwich. Attempt rocking washer back and forth on each corner into position - Is successful, despite 3 near misses on cutting my toes off with a flailing washer.

After quick phone consultation with father on which pipes attach to which tubes, get tubes tightly screwed onto pipes. Turn pipes on - get doused with gallons of spraying water coming from previously thought to be tight connections. Turn off pipes, utilize pliers to tighten the connections as much as humanly possible. Really wish that I had a wrench specifically for such occasions, or any type of muscle mass to make this job even remotely easy.

Turn water back on, only mild dripping occurs. Consider the operation a success, plug machine into wall, test a rinse cycle. Huzzah and rejoicing, washer is installed. Now just need to move on to easier task - dryer install (Note: This is a misconception of epic proportions). First, get a towel and dry off from previous dousing. Shake all excess water off my head like a twitchy dog. Back to business.

Dryer only has a wall plug and little exhaust tube to attach, decide to do tube first. Problem being, in order to be able to reach said tube, one must be behind the dryer. Dryer is located in small alcove beneath the water heater. In order to get into position, one must slide through an 18 inch gap between top of dryer and shelf holding the heater, and wedge themselves into a space roughly 2'X4' in total floor space. As I am tiny, this is accomplished, just with excessive amounts of contortion and cursing.

Once properly in place, spend many a long hour trying to get the tube attached to both the wall and the back of the dryer. This is not just frustrating, this is how you distill pure frustration that you could bottle and sell. By the time I am done, my fingers are covered in deep scratches and no longer even care if I ever get to dry anything, just so long as I never have to see a dryer tube again. Deep breath and rejoicing.

Go to plug the dryer into the wall and get the hell out of there. Dryer Plug has 4 prongs, Dryer Outlet has 3. Look back and forth between the two approximated 25 times, for the life of me not comprehending how this is possible. 4 prongs, 3 holes, 4, 3. Four, three? FOUR, THREE!?

Decide that the world is fully against me, make up mind to get the hell away from this room and go have some ice cream to calm my nerves and sooth my ragged fingers. Attempt to get out from behind dryer. What was difficult to do from the outside seems physically impossible from behind the dryer. Can find no purchase to pull myself out of the tiny hole, no way to leverage the lower half of my body beyond the dryer. Not enough room to push the dryer out far enough to widen hole. Consider myself doomed.

Call for roommate to come to my aid, as I know he is in his room nearby. No answer. Increasingly desperate calls for his help, as visions of my death walled up behind an inoperable dryer dance in my head. Regret ever reading Edgar Allen Poe. Vow to haunt Frank for the rest of his life if I die lodged behind a large appliance while he sleeps in the room less than 10 feet away.

Finally, by wedging hips sideways between the shelf and top of the dryer and then pivoting the rest of my body up and against the wall, escape from my tiny lint-smelling prison. Intense bruises, but will not suffer ignominious death (just yet). Look around and realize reason that I could not move the dryer out far enough was due to a very strategically placed broomstick. Suspect sabotage, but as roommate was still asleep in next room, highly unlikely. File suspicion away for extended scrutiny later. Yell at Frank for not coming to my rescue. His response in total: "Yeah, I heard you calling, but figured it was for something lame, so I went back to sleep." Will totally haunt him now, no matter what.

Call father for further consultation, need to get a new plug for dryer, which I will have to manually install in a very electrical-wiry way myself. Fear for mankind's safety in general, my own in very specific. Go to Home Depot, am promptly supplied with proper plug and out of the store within 3 minutes, at 75% discounted price. HD knows their stuff. Return home, vow never to go out in 108 degree weather ever again, even for desperately wanted items that would allow me to dry wet things in the privacy of my own home without the use of quarters.

Exchanging of the electrical cords involves all of the following: The tipping over of the dryer (directly onto my foot, being the optional part there), the removal of the back panel, the poking of the multicolored wires while hoping not to be shocked to death, the reassuring call to my father that I could not die from electrocution while the dryer was not plugged into the wall, the discovery that the new plug was not color coordinated like the old plug, requiring a second consultation call to my father (including a second reassurance: "Gosh, Jason, no, you will not be electrocuted, the thing isn't even touching the wall."), the removal of the old plug, the installation of the new plug, the realization that I have an almost pathological fear of electricity, the affixing of the back of the dryer to the machine again, and the fervent prayer that nothing will explode
when I plug it into the wall.

Nothing explodes when plugged. Dryer makes appropriate whirring noises when started.

And there was rejoicing like you have no idea.

Still planning on totally haunting the heck out of Frank, though.