The fridge is dead, long live the fridge!

Last weekend brought with it some of the best early June weather I can remember. Temperatures soared, the sun was shining, and Vancouverites soaked it all up with greedy enthusiasm. My husband and I sunned ourselves on the beach and bought ice cream cones and ran around the city shoeless like giddy children. Everything just screamed, “Let’s pretend it’s already officially summer!”

Oh, yeah, and our fridge died.

Which was perfect timing, because we all know cold food and drink are hideously overrated during a heat wave, right?

We’re not entirely sure of the cause. Our building manager blamed old age, but I suspect the fridge might have read my blog post on things I hate in my apartment and realized it didn’t want to go on living in a place where all the bathroom fixtures matched that frozen salmon fillet we had in the freezer.

On Thursday I filled a fresh ice cube tray in anticipation of friends coming over for our weekly D&D session, and promptly forgot about it, because I don’t know about you, but I’ve never felt any especial need to fuss over ice trays like an overprotective mother.

Friday evening I went to fix myself a cold drink, only to discover a tray of water in the freezer instead of the ice I was expecting.

This concerned me, because the first rule of Fridge Club is you have to be cool. The second rule of Fridge Club is you need to chill, man.

Water remaining liquid in the freezer is clearly a violation of Rules 1 & 2.

I checked the main refrigerator compartment, and it too seemed oddly warm for something that used to produce chunks of ice in any liquid you pushed too far to the back. Just to be sure, I poured myself a glass of water from the filter pitcher. It was disgustingly tepid.


The temperature dial was already cranked to the coldest setting. Our freezer was not overpacked, nor was anything blocking the vents at the back.

It looked like our fridge was just done being a member of Fridge Club. Fuck your rules, I thought I heard it whisper as I closed the door. Fuck them right in the crisper.

I called Nutty Hubby over so I could have a witness to the betrayal and also for a second opinion just in case I was crazy and imagining things, and upon examination he agreed that the future of our perishables was looking very dark indeed. It was late, though, so we decided to call the building manager in the morning.

We didn’t hear back until Monday. By that time, everything in the freezer was half-thawed and sweating, but I left it all where it was so whoever came to check things out could clearly see that we had nothing to hide.

Nutty Hubby got the first phone call while he was at work. Apparently they hit him with the clichéd, “Have you tried unplugging it and plugging it back in again?”

He messaged me on Facebook to tell me the news.

Nutty Hubby: Managers got back to me. They want us to try unplugging fridge for one hour as that has fixed other ones before.

Me: Have fun with that, ’cause I’m sure as hell not going back there to unplug it. Lord knows what’s living behind that thing.

Nutty Hubby: Thanks for the honor.

Me: I am exercising my once-in-a-blue-moon right to be a squeamish girl.

True to my word, when I got home I immediately left again and biked to the pool downtown to swim laps, because I didn’t even want to be on the same side of the Burrard Bridge when he pulled the thing away from the wall.

He reports that it wasn’t all that bad, although he admits that once he’d moved the fridge, he stuck a Swiffer down the back, closed his eyes and just flailed it around wildly.

I returned from the pool just in time for a second call from the manager saying he was now available to check out the fridge in person.

“Whoa,” he said immediately when he walked into the kitchen. “That’s a really old one, huh?”

He proceeded to ask all the standard questions to make sure we weren’t just dipshits that didn’t know how to use major appliances, but I was pretty sure that first glance had told him everything he needed to know. He left with a promise to contact the landlords immediately and do his best to talk them into springing for a brand new unit.

Apparently he was very convincing, because the next morning we got the good news that we were due to be re-fridge-ified sometime on Wednesday.

I counted down to this joyous event by doing what I do best: devolving into an irrational state of panic.

I fussed. I fretted. I fidgeted.

But then I finally got off work Wednesday afternoon and went home…and all my worries were quelled in one glorious instant.

It’s…it’s breathtaking…

I heard a chorus of angels singing hallelujahs over the theme to 2001: A Space Odyssey. My heart skipped a beat and did a couple of somersaults. Everything around me seemed to glow in the radiance of this pure new presence in our home.

Some say I fell to my knees and wept. Others say I went full punctuationless shouty CAPS on Twitter.

I don’t really recall. All I knew was that I was in love.

A freezer with a shelf? Now I know I’m dreaming!

The delivery guys hadn’t bothered to remove the protective plastic or tape or cardboard scraps from any of it, so I got to spend a good five minutes just admiring our new acquisition while I rid it of all the superfluous junk. We bonded as I gently wiped down the shelves and drawers with a damp cloth.


When Nutty Hubby got home, we went shopping for offerings of frozen fish and lasagna and exotic fruit juices to appease our new Giver of Cold.

It accepted them with good grace.

Welcome to Fridge Club, new friend.

18 thoughts on “The fridge is dead, long live the fridge!

  1. The new fridge is glorious, and may it be mighty in its frigidity, but there is a benefit to the death of the old fridge because “fuck you right in the crisper” is also my new favorite insult, and should be adopted universally.

    And the toaster is sulking because it thinks the new fridge ain’t so hot.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. “Oooohhh–Aaaaaah”. That’s me oohing and aahing over your new refrigerator. We need a new one terribly but I don’t want to fork over the money until the damn thing dies. Because we just got a new washing machine a week ago which I’ll be making payments on for the next 12 months. And the dishwasher seems like he’s ready to give up the ghost. It seems like when one dies all the other appliances go shortly after– from grief perhaps. All I know is that when you’re a homeowner, stuff like this really pisses you off. You end up spending a shit ton of money on things that you need just for daily living. I’d rather spend $1000 towards a fabulous vacation. OK, I’ll stop now before I turn this comment into a diatribe about how being an adult sucks. Congrats on the new appliance!

    Liked by 1 person

    • They do always seem to kick the bucket in groups, don’t they?

      I admit I am envious of your dishwasher, ailing though it may be. Our drying rack is always full and takes up a good third of our potential counter space, and our sink is so tiny there’s just no way to do the dishes without soaking everything in the near vicinity.

      And I think we’ve probably spent enough on coin laundry over the years to fund an entirely new washer and dryer…

      Apartment living has its cons, home ownership has its cons…basically we’re all screwed no matter what and deserve a nice getaway to an island with endless mai tais.


  3. I love the soft lens on those photos, haha! XD Also, I’ve lived in Japan so long now I couldn’t understand why you’d called the building manager for a broken fridge. In Japan, when you move, you take all the appliances and light fictures–even the washing machine, fridge, and oven!

    Liked by 1 person

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