He was so cheerful and polite that I forgot all about how irate I was and for the the first time, considered his reasons for not returning our numerous phone calls.
Truth is, I was about ready to throw our stove out and get a new one, deducting the cost from next fortnights rent.
So typical of my generation.
He was here now though. Utility belt on, tool in hand. No this is not the story line to some cheesy porno, he was here to fix our stove.
Less than half an hour later and he had replaced some ancient fuse and removed the ovens element. Apparently, they still make them and he's ordering another one in.
Moments before his arrival I was hoping for a new stove, assuming naively that fixing this dinosaur would be far too much work. But he's gone now and I feel proud to have been a part of a previous generations way of being.
Don't get me wrong, it's not being materialistic, but I really stopped to appreciate our stove this afternoon.
I don't think I'll be darning my socks any time soon, but I'll certainly think twice before I rush off to replace the next appliance that doesn't work as I think it should.