Dishwasher-Safe

Sigh. ¶ Another day, at work. I was just sitting alone watching the sun outside and thinking about how great life is. KNOCK-KNOCKITTY-KNOCK. Who's there? Oh, a new maintenance man (I haven't met YOU yet). Makes face like he's afraid of the dog. Oh, no, no. She's just a big old sweetheart. SIT! SIT! SIT! DOWN! ¶Long story short, after 3 years of asking and repairs, the Carmel Partners man has come (like an angel) to REPLACE the dishwasher. That means new dishwasher, right? And I'm beginning to regain my faith in humanity (just a little). Ah, but such joys fade quickly. The dishwasher man, upon momentary inspection, began to deride the manner in which I do the dishes (not my fault-that's Dexter's job!) Still, he tells me the dishwasher's fine and that I just don't know how to do dishes. ¶WOW. Did I lose it pretty fast. I couldn't believe how loud I got. But man, that's just the way it is with Carmel Partners. After years and months and days of being chipped away by the little things (like cockroaches on your toothbrush and chunks of your ceiling collapsing), then they have the nerve to blame you (consistent slumlord behaviour). ¶So I lost it. Asked dishwasher man what the hell was he doing in my apartment. If he was here to replace the dishwasher, then replace it already (we've been waiting for two years now). If he was here to play Martha Stewart to my dishwashing abilities, then GET THE HELL OUT--and take the non-functioning, cockraoch-infested dishwasher with you or catch it as I toss it out the window. ¶Man did not back down. Insisted the dishwasher was working just fine, and that I was just a dirty person. So I invited him to sit there for 2 hours while I loaded the dishwasher with clean dishes and turned them into dirty dishes with a flick of the dial. Maybe my invitation was a bit loud (honestly, I'm usually not a screamer), but he quickly left to go get his tools. And that was 2 hours ago. ¶Now come on folks. It's one thing to do this the first time around. But after a few years of maintenance guys wasting days on our wet kitchen floor, and several unfulfilled promises of a new dishwasher, and then new promises that they've ordered it. And now, it's here-our brand new dishwasher is actually here in the buildilng. To send someone up who tells me he's trying to determine if we really need it is like taking a newly-assembled happy meal toy away from a kid. I was so pissed I had to phone Dexter for support and he made lots of wonderful gory threats which I won't write down so as to keep my blog under the 'drama' section and not 'horror'. Now I am considering a dinner party in which I invite all the Carmel Partners folks over and feed them off the dishes that have been cleaned/dirtied in our current dishwasher. Our plates are white, so there's no disguising the little cockroach pieces that get magically appliqued to the edges.