My office was so hot last week that I felt as if I was in a sauna at the wrong time of the year, sweating profusely and almost gasping for breath. To make matters worse, my air conditioning unit which has served me well for the past 10 years suddenly conked out and refused to work, after many attempts to start it. It suddenly decided to no longer oblige me and go on strike.
On Monday this week, exasperated, I came to my office as usual at 6.30 am and decided to try again to see if the machine would respond and give me the comfort I was desperately seeking. I took the remote control and pressed the usual buttons, but to no avail. I decided to coax the machine, by begging it to open its legs so to speak, and stop giving me a hard time.
After my third request, the machine suddenly began churning over, rushing out cool air with such a gusto that it knocked me out, like the relief of a frustrated lover who gains an orgasmic high when he least expects it.
It goes to prove that the language of love can miraculously work, even with air conditioning machines. The Lord be praised is all I can say, and leave it at that.