New Refrigerator Door, Free to a Good Home

dam thoughts, barry currin, beaverdamusa.comWe pulled in the driveway, and there it sat. I knew it would come. I would’ve bet my last dime on it.

I let it sit there for a couple of days before I dragged it in the garage. It got rained on, but I didn’t care. It’s the size of a coffin but surprisingly light. We laughed at the irony and the predictability of its arrival, but now I need a solution for the question:

What on earth are we going to do with an extra refrigerator door? A big, black, ice dispensing refrigerator door.

A few weeks ago I told the story of buying a new refrigerator. But I left out the part where Skinny Pete and Badger from the delivery company rammed it against the door facing and transferred an inordinate amount of paint from the house to the fridge. “No problem,” Pete said. “It happens all the time. You’ll be getting a new door in 6 weeks, and when it arrives, call us and we’ll come put it on. By the way,” he added, “you’ll be getting a survey, and we’re gonna need all 5′s.”

Since it was going to be a month and a half, I thought I would at least see if I could make it look a little better. I got some rubbing alcohol and a rag, and in 3 minutes the door was perfect. It wasn’t scratched at all. It was like magic.

Hallelujah! Take that, universe. I win!

So I called the number for the delivery company to cancel the replacement door. The guy on the other end pulled up my file and confidently told me he would cancel it. It was so easy. I didn’t have to press 8 for English, enter a password, tell my mother’s maiden name or anything. A real person actually picked up a telephone and told me in our native language that he would take care of it.

But I knew better for two reasons. First, any company that would employ people who cannot deliver appliances without damaging them on a regular basis cannot have much on the ball in the efficiency department.

Second, history was not on my side.

A few years ago, we ordered a food dehydrator from one of those television shopping channels. I was somewhat excited at the prospect after Kim told me we could also use it to make our own beef jerky. (I’m an easily-excitable guy.) Anyway, instead of sending us one food dehydrator, they sent us seven. We came home that day to find six huge food dehydrator boxes shrink wrapped together with another sitting on top.

Even with the promise of beef jerky, most people don’t need a food dehydrator. No one needs seven.

So I called the company.

The woman on the other end laughed at me for trying to send them back.

Me: I didn’t order them.
Her: But we sent them to you.
Me: But you only charged me for one.
Her: Don’t you want them?
Me: I don’t need them.
Her: I don’t even know if UPS will pick them up, but I will see.

I left them in the driveway for pickup, and after a couple of days they were gone. They got rained on, but I figured they could dehydrate themselves.

Now I was left to deal with the fact that the woman on the other end of the line made me feel like an idiot for trying to send them back. Never again will I do that, I said. If someone sends me something, I’m keeping it.

End of chapter 1.

Now for chapter two, and this is where it gets hard to believe, but it happened. We ordered one of those half-sized combination pool, foosball, ping-pong tables from the same shopping channel.

They sent four.

We sold the three extras; and St. Peter had better not give me a hard time about it. Every man has his limits.

Those are the reasons I knew the refrigerator door would come. I guess I should be glad we didn’t get eight or nine.

I’m just glad I never had to get a mail-order bride. Of course, a busload of Ukrainian women in front of the house would make for much better neighborhood gossip than a driveway full of orphaned food dehydrators.

About Barry Currin

Barry tries to be funny and poignant, and he's usually satisfied when he succeeds with one or the other. (Being both is awesome. And sometimes that happens.) Email him: currin01@gmail.com

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