Everyone has a secret companion even though they might not realize who it is. When you come home, you’re coming home to her, when you leave on vacation, you won’t go without saying goodbye to her. And how many times has she saved your life?
It’s almost reflexive, the number of times a day we stroll into the kitchen and open the refrigerator door. Hungry? Thirsty? Just plain bored? Check the fridge.
The refrigerator has always adapted to changing lifestyles, going from surprisingly useful invention to household necessity to that thing that holds the leftovers and beer and now hardly a ladder step above a non-entity, that we take for granted but could never get by without. Morning, noon and night, there’ll always be something for everyone in the fridge. All you have to do is look and she gives till it hurts. Ever notice that she never sleeps? How could she, with that damn light on in there?
Coming home from school, work, or whatever, you’ll give your significant other, if any, a peck on the cheek and then you gotta take a look in the fridge. Make a sandwich or take a swig out of a bottle (when no one else is looking) or simply pick up something to nibble while you’re parked in front of the tube. My choice used to be cheese or a sandwich or [insert Cola/fizzy drink brand name here]. Like I used to be a waist 32. Now I prefer grabbing a carrot or two to gnaw on. They’re really quite satisfying. All the munching you’ll ever want, some sweetness thrown in, without the accompanying calories.
You wouldn’t be afforded these conveniences by a washing machine or a stove or a dishwasher or a microwave or any other appliance that you might see fit to include in your domestic scheme of things, or scheme of domestic things even. (Snagglepuss anyone? I loved that pink dude…why did he look like the Pink Panther?)
I’ve always had and acknowledged a relationship with my fridge.
While in school the fridge top was my study table, even though there were plenty of other more inviting, well-lit table tops crying out their availability for book-resting. Don’t ask me why. It just was. I’ve spent many late nights and early mornings standing near that fridge, fiddling with the magnet thingies on its face while attempting some last minute cramming. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I wouldn’t fall asleep while standing and the fridge was the only thing that forced me to do just that. For that matter, I don’t suppose anyone else falls asleep standing up either, not counting some very strange human beings.
I’ve lived out of the fridge for more than a week when I’ve been on my own. There’s something disturbingly romantic about putting a casserole back into the fridge knowing that tomorrow at dinnertime you’ll be in front of the TV, still eating the same thing. Or maybe that’s just me.
I’ve had to share the same fridge with a gecko for a few days. Stupid thing got in one night when I opened the door to get a bottle of water. No way was I about to put my hand in and feel about for a twitching tail! So I just closed the door. I expected it to be ready to jump out when I next opened the door a few hours later. No such luck. What happened to its coldbloodedness, I’ll never know. I thought the dinosaurs died out for that very reason. Then why the fuck was there one terrorizing my leftover casserole? And not to mention, Me. I started leaving the fridge open for a few hours a day, hoping he’d be tempted out. Three days later the creepy coolly crawled out of the fridge as if he’d been cruising in Monte Carlo. I never knew the cursed things could strut!!
If I had a hammer…
I still have the same fridge; I don’t study by her anymore although I still look out for geckos trying to get in on the goods whenever I open the door. It’s a curse every house I’ve lived in has borne… Lizards.
The reflex has developed uninhibited though. Idle? Check the fridge. There’s always something in there to fill the time. This is an attribute that will probably contribute in a major way to rising obesity levels and could soon become a pre-natally imbibed response to…absolutely no stimulus at all…
For now and for always, the refrigerator will remain the silent, unappreciated partner in every kitchen, patiently stocking up, knowing you’ll want her eventually, waiting for the moment your hands will stroke her smooth handle, bringing her to life in all her splendour, her most private parts at your disposal, ever ready to satisfy. Take the first step in the right direction today, treat her to a turkey or two, maybe some ham, a roast chicken or even some gouda; you don’t need to wait for an occasion to show her she’s loved. And she’ll always return the kindness.
But don’t forget the carrots.
The job interview I’ve been hoping to get is finally scheduled for tomorrow and now suddenly I don’t give a shit anymore… Apathy sucks.
Valentine’s Day? Get a life! No, I’m not bitter.
Cyndi Lauper – I Drove All Night
The Cars – Drive
Hmmm... Drive, Drove... I just noticed it.
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