The Great Thaw

The following story is based on true events....

Near the end of December my brother and I were facing an ongoing problem with our refrigerator. To put it simply ... the freezer was not working, and hadn't been working for some time. Long did we dream of having frozen foods and the ability to make ice.

Finally, the landlord acknowledged the issue and a new refrigerator arrived. We were delighted.

"Look at this!" I cried, "We have a place to put our ice cream now!"

"You're right," said Darron, "Let's go buy some groceries to celebrate!"

And then two bus rides later, our lovely new fridge was stocked full of goodies. Meats and vegetables and more frozen pizzas than we could ever eat. We were - as the Dutch would say - sitting pretty. We were like two kings on high, or two high kings. The world was our oyster because we now had a place to properly store oysters. Sleep came easy that night.

Less than 48 hours later a discovery was made.

"I think something is wrong with the fridge. Does this feel cold to you?"

My brother picked up a dripping bag of mush that was once broccoli, "I would have to say no."

It turned out that at some point the refrigerator had thrown in the towel and stopped working. The freezer was now filled with soggy boxes and rapidly thawing meat, and the fridge was filled with warming dairy products. It had decided not to simply break, but turn into a micro sauna. The landlord was contacted, promises were made, but more pressing issues were at hand.

"We'd better find a place for this food, stat." Darron said knowingly, and I agreed.

The food had basically only two places to go: Outdoors in the world's giant icebox I call 'winter' ... or ... in our stomachs. And so the race was on. The next few days were spent eating as much of the food as possible, and/or storing it outside our windows in bags or burying it in the snow like dogs hiding precious bones.

After days of practically camping in our own apartment, a repairman arrived and tackled the fridge. Parts were replaced and a mere three hours later, it was up and running again. Darron and I cried tears of joy and merrily moved everything back indoors to the fridge. The next day we restocked it to optimal levels, and the day after that the fridge stopped working ... again.

"This can't be." Darron said as he headbutted the cabinets.

But it was and the cycle began anew. The landlord was called, the repairman was called, and food was moved back outdoors. Each meal became an annoyance, and making so much as a bowl of cereal was a pain in the ass. The days rolled by, and the fridge remained sickly warm inside.

"That fridge is cursed." I muttered from time to time. "The Ark of the Covenant would keep drinks colder."

The repairman arrived a second time and spent several more hours fighting the great white beast. Before long it was working. Hooray! High fives and refreshing drinks were exchanged all around. About twenty four hours later, the fridge reverted back to "slow-cooker" mode.

"The fridge is broken again." Darron sighed.

"Shut your mouth, that's impossible." I said, and promptly kicked a desk in half.

My brother and I had to once again rescue the food. We called the useless landlord and his useless repairman and demanded that things be set straight.

"I can't believe this has happened again," the landlord said stupidly.

"Indeed."

"You'd better put your food in the trunk of your car. That way the food wont spoil before we can get this fixed." the landlord suggested.

"Uh-huh." I said gripping the phone tightly, "That would be a great idea if we had a fucking car! But don't worry, we've already worked out a system during the last couple of weeks living like arctic cave people."

Admittedly the repairman was quick to return and fix the fridge again. Well, it's hard to say 'again' since it hadn't been fixed once in the first place. In any case, after it was up and running once more he said, "If it gives you any more trouble, we'll switch it with a new fridge right away."

"Cool," growled Darron, "That also would have been an option when you replaced our first motherfucking fridge!"

But tempers - and the refrigerator - cooled quickly. The food was transferred back and life could return to normal. As we all know, the third time is the charm. Except this fridge had been conjured by Satan and stopped working a fourth time the very same night.

"The fridge ... is warm again." I told my brother, and we laughed and laughed. Laughed long into the night until our throats bled.

In the end, the landlord acquired sense and the repairman kept his word; a replacement fridge was delivered. After five breakdowns and the swapping of three fridges, we finally had a working icebox. A fridge that actually does the thing it's supposed to do instead of demonstrating global warming. How quaint.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go have a beer. If it's not cold, I may take a human life.