July 19, 2007

• Shazbot

  Okay this is getting ridiculous.

  A couple of days ago (and i mean literally 2 days thus far, not some cutesy like oh i cant quite remember when it happened but it was recent sort of way) I found there was a hunger inside me that wouldnt go away. Not having any snickers bars on hand, i decided to go to my fridge, therein to find some kind of food to prepare for nourishment.

  Walking into my kitchen, which due to being at the hospital for most meals, i do not see on a regular basis, i discovered a strange smell and a stain on the floor. Okay, weird but not a problem…something probably just went bad, i will throw it out. Upon opening the freezer door however i discovered a nasty surprise. The compressor in my fridge had broken down.

  What does this mean? well in short, the entire wealth of food in my freezer and fridge that i had purchased not one week before to sustain me through rotations had all gone bad in the space of a few hours. And things like the chicken and shrimp in my freezer had spilled defrosted goop onto the fridge and floor, hence the smell and stains.

  Crisis. Throw out my food, clean up the mess, put down some baking soda to avoid the smell lingering, phone up the building manager, who as expected does not answer the phone. Okay, so i walk down to where the manager lives and pound on the door until she opens it. I then kindly explain my dilemma to which she hands me a phone number and says this is not my problem, call the main office.

  I call up the office which is closed (as it is when i get back from work) and play with the touchtone menu until i get the emergency response for maintenance. The woman on the other end informs me that a broken fridge is NOT an emergency. I say in my most polite, sweet, spin doctored voice something that would translate in real speak to :screw you, yes it is, get someone out here now you smug heinous witch” She wisely agrees to send someone out tomorrow.

  Tomorrow comes (yesterday for those of you playing along) and there is still a fridge in my apt when i return from work. Only difference is, there are now some dirty footprints on my floor, and the fridge is bolted shut and looking even more beat up than when i left, with dents in the door, scrapes on the sides, overall filthy. I call up maintenance again, thankfully catching the end of business hours and once again explain my predicament. The woman agrees to have maintenance come at 9am and replace the fridge. I grudgingly agree, still with no food and a hunger gnawing in my belly, go out to go further over my budget for the month by eating at some restaurant

  Flash forward to today…day three of josh’s unintentional hunger strike. Still no replacement fridge. I call again. the woman says she talked to maintenance and they replaced the fridge. I assure her, they did not. She has the gall to ask me if i am trying to open it from the correct side. I imply that her mother fornicated with a barnyard animal. She says she will call up maintenance again. I am giving maintenance approximately 30 minutes to call me back, i.e. the time it has taken me to write this post, and then i am calling every 10 minutes non stop until i have working appliances in this apartment.

  See? Angry josh is still buried deep inside the calm, easygoing buddhist facade he endeavors to live by. But even the buddha only forgives you 3 times. Get me my damn fridge

  -J

  • 4:33 pm
  • 2 Comments