The Omega Man

What do you think of when you hear "Omega Man"?  A post-apocolyptic Charlton Heston with a few zombies thrown in for excitement.  

or a sharp looking fella with a snazzy watch?

The Omega man came to our door on Thursday, don't you know.

If you recall, our new oven was released from the bondage of its box when the kitchen cabinets were being installed, and we immediately noted some denting in the fascia  where the knobs and displays are.  Consequently we made ourselves a date with Omega's service department.

My expectation dial was set to resolution, and not expecting any sort of resistance from the company, I anticipated the guy entering our residence with a short greeting and perhaps fleeting eye contact, smalltalk as we made our way to the oven, a shaking of his head in acknowledgement of the issue, pondering (possibly aloud), offering some sort of thesis as to how this might've happened, a word of dismay that we'd been inconvenienced and a warm assurance that the matter would be taken care of, if not in that instant, within a briefest possible juncture.

Reality only mirrored my expectations in that I answered the knock of the door, walked to the kitchen, back to the front door again, and it was over.  And somehow in the intervening 15 seconds I gleaned that a replacement fascia would be ordered and we would wait for their call.


So I'm waiting...

I never anticipated the Omega Man being a person of such stealth and mystery.