Not long ago, my water filter exploded. Yes, exploded. We’re talking about something the size of a thermonuclear weapon. Pieces were everywhere in the bodega that housed it. And this was the second time it happened.
This apparatus has to be cleaned twice a week by releasing sludge water. So, I’m unsure how safe I might be during the cleaning process. As I didn’t want to be collateral damage, I, therefore, took the matter into my own hands and rushed soldierly out to the bodega with the get-it-done attitude I’m known for. I called the installer.
The following is the exchange between Victor and me.
“Tengo una problema. Con el filtro de agua.”
He paused. “Lo siento.” He didn’t ask for the address. He obviously knew who I was.
“Ha vuelto a explotar. Muy peligroso,” I went on.
“Lo siento,” he repeated. I felt his discomfort.
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