Everyday Energy, Solar Reviews

 Everyday Energy is located at 5865 Avenida Encinas #142a, Carlsbad, CA 92008

Here’s a review from Facebook:

Terry Bevan slammed down the phone.

He gritted his teeth, feeling the muscle of his jaw tighten. Glaring down at the black Samsung, he resisted the urge to fling the device across the room.

But then again, it wasn’t the phone’s fault.

Taking a long breath, Terry straightened. Slowly, he picked up the phone for the third time that day and dialed the number of Everyday Energy.

For several seconds the phone rung, vibrating against Terry’s hand. Finally, there was a click and a recorded female voice spoke: “Sarah Leavens from Everyday Energy. Currently, I’m on another line, but please leave a message and I’ll get back to you.” At the false cheer in her voice, Terry clenched his teeth again. As the beep sounded for a message he gathered his thoughts.

“Hi, this is Terry Bevan, I’ve called several times…” he tried to keep the anger out of his voice. “I would really appreciate it if you called back as soon as possible. I need to get some warranty work done on my solar panel system.” Unable to think of anything new to say, he muttered quick “thanks, bye” and hung up.

He’d been calling Everyday Energy for several days now and still had no answer. He’d even emailed.

Leaving the phone on the coffee table, Terry walked to the closet and took out his puffy black jacket. Slipping it over his shoulders, he put on his shoes, gathered up his car keys, and stepped out of the house.

Standing on the porch, he sighed, his breath coming out in a swirl of fog. The grass was crystalized with the last dregs of snow.

Ducking into the old, grey Ford, he stuck the key into the ignition and twisted it violently. The car jerked into a sputter, shuddering as it warmed up. Shifting gears and pulling out of the driveway, Terry tried to forget Everyday Energy and the issues he was having with this solar panels and just enjoy the drive.

Fifteen minutes later, the grey Ford was parked outside Newton Middle School.

Terry scanned the gaggle of kids for his daughter, but her blonde ponytail was easily lost among the sea of shifting heads.

Turning off the car, Terry leaned against the seat. The drive there had been a blur, with people cutting him off and driving too slow.

The back car door opened.

“Hi, daddy.”

Amber popped into the car, perching comfortably in the back. There was a zipping sound as she put on her seatbelt, then looked at him expectantly.

“Hey,” Terry said, trying to smile. “How was school?”

“It was good,” Amber chirped. “My friend, Cam, got these really cool new shoes and now everyone wants them. They’re purple and when you walk they light up and—”

As Terry started the car, Amber’s chattering became a fog of noise. He didn’t even pretend to listen until he heard a quizzical: “Daddy?”

Looking in the rearview mirror, Terry saw Amber’s wide brown eyes staring at him.

“Hmm?”

“Did you hear me?”

“Uh… yeah,” Terry scrambled to remember. “Those… new shoes.”

Amber nodded. “Mmhm. Do you think I could get them?”

Terry felt a shred of pain begin to pulse between his eyebrows as he pulled onto the highway. “You don’t need new shoes. Aren’t the ones you’re wearing good enough?” His voice cracked into her chatter like a lightning bolt.

Amber went silent.

Terry groaned inwardly. “I mean… What about we talk it over with Mommy, okay?”

The blue light of the computer screen reflected into Terry’s aching eyes.

Amber had talked nonstop until she’d gone to bed. Now, with the dishes done and his family asleep, Terry was checking his email for the twentieth time that day.

Nothing.

Clicking the ‘compose’ button, Terry started a new email. After staring at the blinking cursor for several minutes, he slowly began typing.

To: Everyday Energy

From: Terry Bevan

When you get this email, please call me back…

Indeed

David Beeman poured a slow trickle of coffee into his mug.

Steam rose in curling strands, unfurling in tentacles of heat. Setting down the kettle, Beeman brought the mug into his office at Everyday Energy. As he settled into the large swivel chair, he went over a mental checklist for the day.

Pay the bills. Organize the ledger. Record accounts.

The list went on and on.

Beeman sighed, sinking back into the chair.

“Hey, David!”

He glanced toward the door to see Sarah sticking her head into his office. She wasn’t strictly from the accounting department, but she stopped by every once and a while anyway.

“Hi,” he said, sitting straighter. “What’s up?”

With a little sigh she draped herself dramatically against the doorframe. “It’s really busy. And some guy named Terry Bevan keeps calling. Over. And over.” She flung a strand of blonde hair over her shoulder.

“Sounds like a hard day,” Beeman said.

Sarah gave a lift of her eyebrows to indicate her agreement. “Anything new in accounting?”

Beeman shrugged. “Nope.”

“Mm.” Sarah played with a strand of her hair as though considering something. “After work Bobby, Mike, Shelly, and I are going to Wendy’s for some fast food.” She looked up at Beeman. “You wanna come?”

With a shrug, Beeman said, “Sure.” He smiled.

After a long day at work, an evening with his coworkers would be just what he needed.

Four cups of coffee and several hours later, Beeman plopped into his chair again.

He was exhausted.

His legs ached from running around the Everyday Energy office all day and he’d used up a new pen with all his scribbling and figures. Taking a deep breath, he let himself melt into the chair. As much has he loved this job at Everyday Energy, sometimes it got to be a lot of work. Every once and a while, when it had been a particularly long day, he would even ask himself why he’d taken the job in the first place.

Of course, the next day he’d get up and remember how much he loved numbers, how much he loved working with these people, how much he enjoyed this job—but there were always those days when he’d forget.

He hated those days.

“Yo!”

Beeman opened his eyes which had been slowly drifting shut. Mike Morreson stood in the doorway, his broad frame silhouetted against the light. A wide grin was stretched across his dark face.

“You’re coming this evening, right?”

Beeman took another long breath. “Yeah. I’m coming.”

He had told Sarah he would go after all.

Mike gave a thumbs up. “Awesome. See you there.”

Then he was gone, leaving the light to shine in Beeman’s face.

The car’s engine died reluctantly.

Beeman pulled the key from the ignition and stuck it in his pocket. Slowly he opened the car door and stepped out. The walk from the Wendy’s parking lot to the actual restaurant seemed to take forever. His shadow stretched long in front of him.

Slipping into Wendy’s, he looked around for his friends.

Scanning the tables, he saw an older couple, a young man on his phone, and two girls chattering like a couple of chipmunks. Not even a glimpse of his friends.

Slumping, Beeman prepared to text Sarah when a hand fell over his shoulder.

Beeman flinched.

“Gotcha,” said Mike’s deep voice.

A smirk spread over Beeman’s voice as he turned to see the Everyday Energy crew standing behind him: Mike, Sarah, Bobby, and Shelly. Sarah’s lips twitched as she fought back a smile. Mike lifted his eyebrows.

Beeman offered a persuasive grin. “I knew you guys were there.” At their disbelieving looks he continued, “Come on, I’m not that ignorant of my surroundings.”

Bobby shot him a look of disbelief. “Uh-huh.”

“I’m serious!” Beeman said.

With a snort, Sarah pushed him toward a table. “Whatever you say, Mr. Bumblebee.”

“Beeman. It’s Beeman.”

He caught a mischievous glimmer in Sarah’s eyes and couldn’t help a smile from breaking through. As they sat around the table with the warm smell of burgers and fries lingering around them, Beeman felt the stress of that day melt away.

And as the group fell into teasing and talking once more, Beeman again remembered why he loved his work.