A friend are I are in a creative writing challenge. It's the old standby, we submit a single word topic to each other and then write a short piece on that subject. The following is a piece on the word "refrigerator". I won't say if it is my friend's work, in which case I would be looking for your most pointed barbs and criticisms to take down this half-wit, or my work, where your very worth would be judged on how much you loved it. So here it is. Thanks for your input. It is appreciated. If there's interest, I'll post the other piece.
Beer and Soda
Hey, look at you. How do you like your new digs? Excuse me; I’m just going to help myself to a beer real quick. Thanks. So! You’re going to love it out here. I mean it. It does get a little chilly in the winter, but . . . wait, look who I’m taking to who here. Like you’d even notice. Have you met the Accord yet? Pretty nice, huh.
Hey man, I know that whole kitchen-remodeling thing hit you pretty hard. I wasn’t really expecting it either, but you know how she is. Seriously though, I think that you’re going to be much happier out here in the garage.
What? No man! No, don’t even think like that. I’ll tell you what, in twelve years not once did so much as a single stick of butter go soft because you weren’t doing your job. You were the greatest. You’re still the greatest. But, you know. She gets all of those home magazines and sees those pictures of big stainless steel appliances. Next thing you know, we’re at Lowe’s applying for twelve months of free finance. It’s all about looks with her.
I agree. Almond is a classic color. And I’ll tell you something else. Nobody would ever believe that you've been preserving perishables for a family of five for over twelve years. You look like you came out of the carton last week. Even those tightwads that slither around here every year for the neighborhood garage sale would pay top dollar for you.
No. No. That’s not what I meant at all. We still need you, man. You’re the beer and soda fridge now. Hell, that’s more important than butter and eggs.
That’s not true. There are plenty of other things that you’re good for. Come Thanksgiving, who do you think I’m going to ask to store big Mr. Tom Turkey until its time for him to meet the deep fryer? Not that metallic monstrosity in the kitchen, I’ll tell you that. And just wait until deer season; you’ll prove who the real refrigerator around here is. While you’re packed with 150 pounds of prime venison that fancy Frigidaire inside will be struggling just to chill a pint of soy milk.
Just think. No more having your door yanked open and slammed shut 100 times a day. No more spilled Kool-Aid dripping down into your crisper. It’s like you’re retired now, but you still get to do what you love. And instead of being covered with coloring book pages, school calendars, and soccer schedules, I ask only that you display this swimsuit calendar. Think you can handle that? Christie Brinkley alright with you?
Oh, come on. That’s not fair, man. You know that’s not fair. Okay, but before you go have a big meltdown on me, you should know – the oven and the dishwasher, they didn’t make out so well. That’s right. As we speak, they’re sitting in a backroom at Abe’s Appliance Repair being stripped for parts. Think about that next time you start feeling sorry for yourself. Things don’t look so bad out here in the garage now, do they?
Apology accepted. Truce.
Thank you, I would like another beer.
What's that? You bet, man. Absolutely. As soon as I finish mowing the lawn I’ll change your light bulb. You better have a cold one ready for me though.
Just kidding, I know you will.
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