Not Worth Repairing
(A repair shop on Ninth Street. A washing machine stands on the floor.)
Gwendolen: The store said it isn’t worth repairing.
Amaru: Looking’s free.
(Amaru takes off the back panel and looks inside.)
Amaru: The store’s right. No argument.
Gwendolen: Oh.
Amaru: The pump’s sixty dollars, my hour’s forty, and a new machine is three hundred in the sale.
Gwendolen: So you won’t do it.
Amaru: I didn’t say that. The pump’s still available. I’ve got two on the shelf.
Gwendolen: You’re already doing it.
Amaru: Look at that motor. Nineteen ninety-four. It’s all right, and you can’t buy one like it anywhere now.
Gwendolen: The boy in the store called it end of life.
Amaru: The boy in the store is twenty. He’s an expert on nothing.
Gwendolen: What’s it going to cost me?
Amaru: A hundred, including the part. That’s the final price.
Gwendolen: That’s a third of a new one.
Amaru: It is. And this one will still be running in ten years. The new one won’t. Not worth repairing means it costs more than it’s worth. It doesn’t mean it’s finished.
Gwendolen: My son says I should just buy a new one.
Amaru: Then your son can carry the new one up your stairs. This one goes home Friday.
