The refrigerator died.
When we bought it in 2005, the guys at COOL IT (I know, great
name for a fridge/freezer store, right?) said it was a “renter’s refrigerator.”
We were renters.
We needed a refrigerator. Seemed
like fate was smiling upon us, so we bought it.
It was more like bad karma laughing its ass off.
We went to bed that night secure in the knowledge
that we would no longer be living on take-out food, since COOL IT would deliver
our fridge the next day.
The following morning dawned with sunshine and
birdcroak (they don’t sing in Arizona—way too hot). Stij and I lingered over our coffees and
planned what to shop for after the fridge was installed and running.
“Gee, it’s already ten o’clock,” Stij said, glancing
at his watch. “Didn’t they say they’d be here by eight?”
“Oh, it is that late already? Yeah, they did. Want me to call them?”
“Yep. I’ve
got to get to work. I’m glazing doors
and drawer fronts for Nowlin’s kitchen today, and I’ll need to set up in the
driveway.”
I called.
I spoke to an associate.
I hung up.
“Well?”
“It’s here.”
“What is?”
“The fridge.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know—he said they delivered it at six
this morning. So I asked him to read me the delivery address and he had the
right one.”
“Oh, don’t tell me…”
We dashed to the door and opened it to find the
fridge, standing like a sentry, at the end of the driveway.
“Oh for…”
“Honey, remember your blood pressure…”
“I’m remembering it, and you will too, when blood
started shooting out my eyes, which is going to happen any minute now! Phone, please.”
I handed it to him and closed the door behind him
to allow privacy while he screamed at the associate.
The transaction was beginning to remind me of my
Office Max farrago (see archived Weekly Rants).
I walked to the end of the driveway to check for damage on our ‘new to
us’ appliance. The crazy way it was
tilting made me fear that it had been a drive-by delivery, having been edged
off the truck as it slowed to 10 mph.
But no, they had just left it leaning precariously
on the edge of the curb…and the street facing side was now covered with
spray-painted graffiti. All my life, I’ve
wanted a refrigerator that says, ‘FOCK YOU’ in rainbow colors, and now it was
mine.
I should mention here that we don’t live in a
great neighborhood…or an educated one, for that matter.
Stij returned from his eruption with a little
magma still dribbling from the corners of his mouth.
“Should I ask how it went?”
“They are coming here now to pick it up. They are
bringing a refund check with them.”
“Uh oh.”
“They were foolhardy enough to tell me that they
only deliver and do not install—something they failed to mention when we bought
it.”
“Uh, there’s been a further development,” I said.
“A what?”
Oh, god.
I took his hand, which was already beginning to
clench, and showed him.
He was surprisingly calm.
This is always
a bad sign. This happens just before the top of his head shoots off and goes
into orbit around Mars.
At that moment, in a absolute miracle of bad
timing, the truck from COOL IT arrived.
They disembarked, took one look at the fridge and
said, “What the hell did you do this
for? It’s defaced. We can’t take it back now.
”
I just shook my head and stepped out of the way…two streets out of the way.
By the time the dust settled, the fridge was
loaded and Stij had his check in hand, with the promise of a replacement fridge to be delivered and installed the following day, COD. We watched the truck lumber off down the street.
“I was too far away to hear clearly—how did you
get them to take it back with all that spray-paint on it?”
“While we were arguing, their truck got a dose of
what the fridge did—watch when it turns the corner.”
Well, at least with the fridge as evidence, the ‘UP
YER’S’ painted in eight-foot rainbow-colored letters will be easier to explain.
