So we ordered our new absurd refrigerator last September, and on account of Covid, it was delayed coming in. Delayed nearly 9 months! We could have had a baby. Well, not Wifey and me, but a fecund couple...
Anyway, it was due to be delivered Wednesday, and I told Wifey she could handle overseeing that job. Somehow when I'm there, I always get sucked into some kind of homeowner drama, and I chose to avoid it this time. The delivery folks said they'd be there from 11 to 3, and I spent the day at the office.
At 530 I headed home, and as I would have guessed, no delivery. Apparently the truck broke down. But now I was on a quest -- a quest to stay away from this simple task. Everyone ought to engage in stupid and futile gestures every once in awhile, and this was to be mine.
So I pulled into Captain's Tavern, ordered a martini, and got text updates from Wifey. I had the grouper -- amazingly fresh. I struck up a conversation with some fellow gringos at the bar -- a retired criminal lawyer who was good friends with some of my friends, and the longtime corporate counsel from Ryder Trucks -- now 88 and awaiting his "hot young wife." She showed up -- she's 65. I guess everything is contextual.
Now it was 8, and the delivery guys had arrived, but needed backup. This damned built in is SO heavy -- I would never have bought it, except our kitchen was designed for a flat, built in.
When flat screens came out, they were absurdly expensive, but now are cheap. Flat fridges went the other way in price -- when we bought a replacement for the original one in '07, it cost $6K. Now it's over $10K. And they last, if you're lucky, only a decade. We'll see...
I drove home and saw the blinking yellow lights of the van parked next to the delivery truck. I parked next to Jeff and Lili's -- now bound by ridiculous duty to NOT go home until the work was done. It was 8:45 and I listened to the first quarter of the Heat game. Finally, at 9, Wifey called -- the job was done.
The new behemoth was in the kitchen, and the free HD unit in the garage -- the simple garage fridge taken away, with a case of Bud Light I told Wifey to have the delivery guys take -- leftovers from D2's party in February. I drink little beer, and when I do, like the World's Most Interesting Man, it is NOT Bud light. The guys appreciated it.
So I drove home, figuring the guys were just hanging out chilling. We watched the Heat lose -- the Finals ought to end tonight in Boston.
At 11, I took out the trash -- and the truck was still there! The driver, a very nice fellow from Detroit, said he was waiting for a tow truck -- no easy feat for something to tow a big box truck on a Wednesday night. I invited him in, or offered some cold drinks. "I'm fine," he said "enjoying the beer from your wife. Thanks." Finally at 11:30 they towed him away.
So this latest classic First World Problem seems over. Wifey is happy with her new appliances.
I told the story to neighbor Ellen today, and she smarmily said "Oh -- so with state of the art appliances, your Wife's going to cook now?" Ha. As if. Not at all, other than the pasta I make, along with the Daddy eggs and pancakes, but it does look spiffy.
Meanwhile, Betsy is here for the weekend. D2 and Jonathan are north of Toronto for Jonathan's nephew's bar mitzvah. I imagine spirits will be lower as the rabid Leafs fans saw their team stink again this year. But they'll have some nice, cool weather -- they're due back Monday night.
In honor of their Canadian visit, I'm playing Neil Young, though I think he may have become American. That's ok. D2 and Jonathan just landed safely, and I sent them a bunch of Canadian stuff -- the MaKenzie brothers, and the trivia nugget that Rick Moranis and Geddy Lee, two famous Toronto Jews, grew up together. Moranis is much funnier.
It's Memorial Day weekend, and we plan to see D1, Joey, and the Little Man Sunday. And Monday I WILL remember those who died for our now divided country -- with the hopes that we somehow stay together even though many of us care more about outlawing abortion than they do about protecting school age children from mass shootings.
Oh boy. Better to worry about expensive refrigerators.
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