Last week, my friend Charles called me on my cell phone to ask what I thought was a really stupid question. I was in the middle of my workday but I answered the phone anyway. I asked Charles what he needed, and he told me his furnace was not working. Now, Charles, is one of my best friends, and I adore him, but I was at work. Why would he be calling me about his out-of-order furnace? I told him to hang tight until I was out of work and then I would be over. When I reached Charles’ apartment at around quarter after six that night, he was upset because he was cold and did not have an HVAC company to call. I inquired which HVAC company he had used previously. Charles told me that he had never had to call for an HVAC repair before, and his furnace had never been inspected during the time he was living in his current apartment. The landlord would not send anyone over to fix his furnace, or even take a look at it. The landlord refused to give Charles the name of the HVAC company he typically used. I looked up a few local HVAC companies on my phone and helped Charles pick the best candidate for the service call. Because Charles was so upset about his uncooperative landlord and broken furnace, he had already had three beers at that point. Understandably, I called the HVAC company for him and stayed at his apartment until an HVAC technician was able to come by and fix the broken furnace.