My refrigerator is broken. Not broken like the handle fell off, broken like it doesn’t stay cold. It doesn’t refrige things.
I’ve come to realize how much I take my refrigerator for granted. Even in movies where the person has no money and lives in a shithole apartment with brown water and holes in the walls, they still have a working refrigerator. And there’s a reason for that. Because you can’t keep food without a refrigerator. And food is important.
So here I am, without a refrigerator for the past week. It’s been on a slow decline and I’ve been gradually moving food from the refrigerator to the freezer, like when everyone on the Titanic climbed to the bow of the sinking ship even though they knew they were only delaying the inevitable. I started eating as much as I could of what would eventually go bad, but there’s only so much frozen meat you can eat in a two or three day span. Even The Girlfriend couldn’t eat all the food fast enough, and she eats so fast she sometimes forgets when she’s already eaten something (e.g. Q: “Where did my other piece of chicken go?” A: “You ate it.”)
I’m angry and I’m frustrated. I feel like a good friend has let me down. And what’s more, I’m hungry. I haven’t had milk in over a week because I can’t keep it at home, and who buys milk at work? “Hey Dan, how’s it going? Whoa, what have you got there big fella? Is that a carton of milk? Welcome to the fifth grade everyone, Dan brought the milk.” (At least that’s what I would say.) Meanwhile, I can feel my bones osteoperosisizing. It’s a bad situation and, to sum up, I’m mad at my refrigerator. Mad as hell. And this is what I’m going to do about it.
The First Annual Appliance Rating
Oven: Gets hot, stays hot. Good job.
Toilet: You have clogged on me only once, and it wasn’t even because of something solid. You just got hitched up somehow (although to this day my Super doesn’t believe me.) Otherwise, you’ve been tried and tested. And you have passed.
Trash bin: You smell sometimes, even when there is nothing in you. And I don’t understand that. Then again you are a trash bin, so I guess that’s just the way you are. You’re terrific at holding trash though.
Fan: I’m a big fan.
Sink: I bought this faucet because my old faucet, designed by assholes, came up off the sink about one inch before jutting out over my already shallow sink, to the point where I couldn’t even fit my Brita pitcher under the faucet without tipping it sideways. This faucet has changed my life. I love you, faucet.
Refrigerator: I ought to bury you in the desert like Joe Pesci at the end of Casino. You are a warm refrigerator. You are nothing to me. I look down on you.
THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU BETRAY ME!
I feel better now. Well, better about the refrigerator, not better about this.