Sheriff Roy Templeton finally had a day off. He’d told Deputy Miranda, his second in command, to hold all calls for the day unless the matter was nothing short of an active shooter scenario. Settling into his easy chair, Mud Lick’s top cop prepared to open his copy of Peter Thiel’s “Zero to One” and finally let the tension in his shoulders and neck release.

That’s when a loud buzzing noise emanating from the kitchen threatened to severely damage Sheriff Roy’s calm.

“Arlene!” Sheriff Roy yelled from the living room. “What in tarnation is that blasted noise?”

“It’s the dishwasher,” Mrs. Templeton yelled back. “It just started doing this and I have no idea why!”

Grumbling, the Sheriff set his book down in his easy chair and entered the kitchen of the Templeton’s modest residence. Their dishwasher, usually only making moderately loud swishing noises when in action, now buzzed angrily.

Sheriff Roy, still muttering curses under his breath, stopped the dishwasher and emptied it. Fortunately the dishes were clean. He then emptied the gunk out of the dishwasher’s traps, checked the glass container, and washed the screen in the kitchen sink.

None of this alleviated the buzzing noise.

“I think it might be time to get a professional to look at this, honey,” Arlene said quietly. “Maybe we can find a repairman on TikTack?”

Sheriff Roy gave his wife a side-eyed glance. “You mean to tell me that Chinese program Roy Junior’s not allowed to use lets you hire people who can repair dishwashers?”

“No, sweetie, that’s TikTok. TikTack is an app that lets you find professional handymen who can do the jobs you need done around the house nearby, get estimates over your phone, and book appointments.”

This was not appealing to Sheriff Roy in the least. “Apps for everything these days. You’d swear you can’t take a dump now without it being logged in some ‘app.’ Whatever happened to the days when people used the Yellow Pages to look up what they needed? No thank you, honey, if I want a repairman I’ll use the Google machine before I use an ‘app’ to get this dishwasher fixed.”

Sheriff Roy’s search of the Yellow Pages proved futile. First, most of the appliance repair places in the tome had closed in the last year or two due to the pandemic. Second, there weren’t many people who worked on dishwashers.

Which left Google. Fortunately the Sheriff quickly found an ideal establishment right in Driftwood County: “Corsican Brothers Dishwasher Repair and Replacement.”

A phone call—how the Sheriff preferred phone calls over asinine texting—and a repairman was set to come to his home the very same day.

So much for Arlene’s “apps,” thought the good Sheriff.

The “repairman” Sheriff Roy met was a surprise. It was “Pedro,” a guy Sheriff Roy arrested with his friend “Dave” a few months back for public intoxication and possession of narcotics.

“You get cleaned up there, Pedro?”

“Oh yeah, man, I went to rehab right after I got out of jail and realized I didn’t have shit to do…I mean stuff that was meaningful to do with my life, Sheriff. So Dave said I should learn some kind of trade, so I started taking night classes in dishwasher repair and now I run my own business!”

All of this pleased Sheriff Roy greatly. While there was no joy in arresting and jailing men like Pedro, the Sheriff always appreciated a good redemption story. Self reliance and pulling up oneself by the proverbial bootstraps were also fine traits for a man like Pedro.

“Come take a look at the scene,” the Sheriff remarked.

On first glance, Pedro immediately said to Sheriff Roy “That Fridgidaire model you’ve got is at least ten years old, man. I don’t know a better way to put it, sir, but that time is usually when these things go to shit.”

Five seconds of hearing that angry buzzing noise and Pedro diagnosed the problem.

“You’ve got a bad pump that’s not helping on the fill, Sheriff. That shit’s probably a burned out motor, man. I can try to replace it, but that all hangs on whether I can get the parts I need from the distributor’s warehouse and you know with the supply chain shit and all, that can be dicey.”

“Let’s go Brandon,” Sheriff Roy muttered through clenched teeth.

“If I were you, man, I’d think about getting a new unit entirely. It’s going to run you about $600-$700 for the unit but you won’t have to worry about anything going bad on it for at least five or six years tops. And if you get a new unit I’ll install it for $50, man.”

“Let me consult with my better half.” Sheriff Roy knew in his heart there was no chance of him simply going to Home Warehouse and just buying a unit that fit and worked. No, Arlene would want to coordinate the dishwasher with all the other appliances in the kitchen that would eventually need to be replaced. She would obsess over the finish, whether the unit would be easy to clean, and how often to clean it.

That’s when Sheriff Roy’s phone vibrated in his pocket. It was a text from Arlene with a model of dishwasher she liked and an accompanying note—“Just get a new one.”

Sheriff Roy showed Pedro the unit Arlene wanted and they agreed on an install date.

Two days later, Sheriff Roy’s office phone rang. It was Pedro.

“Hey man, that dishwasher you wanted is supply chained to shit, man. The distributor’s got none in stock and it’s backordered for six months.”

Sheriff Roy swore loud enough to attract the attention of everyone in the Department’s office pool.

“Can you find anything similar?”

“As a matter of fact I can, but it’s going to run you about $200 more. If I were you I’d jump on it as there’s only four of them left in this part of Alabama.”

Sheriff Roy swore again, then went on Home Warehouse’s website and ordered one for delivery to his residence. Home Warehouse promised to dispose of their old unit on delivery, which the Sheriff liked.

“When you get a delivery date, let me know, Sheriff,” Pedro said on a separate phone call. “I’ll come out a day or two before and disconnect your old unit. Home Warehouse won’t do that shit on deliveries, man.”

“Sounds good.”

“I’ll tell you in advance you won’t be able to wash dishes until I install your new unit, man. When I checked out your old one I found out it was hooked into your hot water line in your kitchen, so hand washing is a no-go unless you’re cool with washing dishes in cold water.”

This didn’t sound appealing to Sheriff Roy at all. Or sanitary. Still, one had to make sacrifices at times.

Home Warehouse turned out to be worse than cable installation technicians. The delivery window was set from 8 AM to 8 PM on a Friday. Fortunately Arlene didn’t have any scheduling conflicts and could be home all day to greet the deliverymen.

The dishes built up in the sink for two days, which the Sheriff did not like.

All that changed when Pedro arrived Saturday and installed the new dishwasher in about twenty minutes.

Finally settling into his easy chair that afternoon, Sheriff Roy cracked open “Zero to One.”

Some things in life couldn’t be compromised on, the Sheriff decided that day.

Those things were the rule of law, the US Constitution, quiet dishwashers and functional central air.