Short Circuit: Sherman Oaks

I've looked better

Yesterday: 106 and the a/c goes out.  Seriously? And now I'm outside, melting like the Wicked Witch. Cursing the world and the circuit box I'm staring at, while hubby tells me over the phone what to do.
"Switch the circuits to the right and then switch them to the left."
"I did that already."
"Try again."
"Okay, I'll call you back."
I do-wacka-do, go inside, attempt to turn on the a/c. Nada.
"Hi, honey. It's me."
"Did that work?"
"No."
"Are you at the circuit box?"
"No... oh God, do I have to go outside again?"
"It would help."
"I'm here. Ouch. The cover just hit my nose. That's gonna leave a mark."
"It should stay open."
"It doesn't. What now?"
"Switch just the a/c circuits to the right and then the left."
"Which ones are those?"
"The big ones. They should be numbered."
"Nothing says a/c."
"It has to."
"Oh, wait. It says 18 and 19 are for a/c. But there's no 18 or 19 marked."
"You have to count each one."
"Oh, dear God. It's so eff'n hot."
"I'll come home."
"No, I can do this. I'll call you back."
I count, I switch, I shvitz, I go back inside, I try to turn on the a/c. Nada.
"Me again. I got bupkis."
"I'm coming home."
"No, don't. I can survive a few hours of Death Valley heat. Stay put."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course."
Fifteen minutes later, I hear the garage door open. Hubby to the rescue. He goes outside, works his magic, and the a/c is back on.
"Why didn't it work for me?"
"I don't know."
"Should I take it personally?"
"I wouldn't."
"I know you wouldn't. That's why it worked for you and not for me."