Mini-fridges are basically the best thing ever invented. You might've been under the false impression that the best thing was sliced bread, the wheel, Pokémon, or even penicillin, but it's not. You're wrong. It's mini-fridges.
When I finally decided where I was going to college, was locked in for a roommate, and dorm room, I excitedly began the search for an awesome fridge.
I'm addicted to ice cream, and pretty much every place on campus sells Ben & Jerry's, so one of my criteria was that the fridge would need a freezer compartment.
Actually, that was my only criterion really. Ben and Jerry are my homeboys.
I thought the process finding said fridge would be fairly simple and end with a result I would cherish for years to come.
That did not happen the way I envisioned it.
My grandparents had begun the process of moving from California to Oregon. They had lived in their house for several decades, and therefore had procured quite a wealth of stuff. My mom went down with siblings to their house to help them decide what to pack, give, and throw away.
It was there she found my future fridge.
When she told me about it, I had no idea what was in store. I thought, "How nice, a free refrigerator".
I first saw it on a drizzling September morning, after she had completed the 400-mile exodus journey to our house. There it sat in the back of our truck it looked at me with a devilish smirk and I knew that living with this fridge would prove to be a struggle. It has set out to make my life difficult.
The fridge is a cube, of about two and a half feet in every dimension. The most distinguishing feature is the fact that it is a shit-brown fridge with faux wood paneling on the door. Sexy, right?
It has a freezer compartment in the top right corner that holds two mini ice cube trays. Of course, nothing you put in that compartment actually freezes. However, everything you put near the outside of the compartment will freeze almost instantaneously. I don't know about you, but I live for iced lettuce in my salads.
Also, the back of the fridge looks like a miniature meth lab. Wires and tubes are exposed everywhere and I'm pretty sure it violates a plethora of fire-safety laws. So if you ever have to move it, you have to grip it super awkwardly so it will fall on you or it will spontaneously combust and set you on fire.
None of these things can compete with the fridge's ultimate weapon. It stinks.
Being that it's over 60 years old, the inside smells exactly like an old folks home.
I've tried washing it's geriatric inside. Once just wiping it down with water. Once using vinegar. Bleach. Soft Scrub. I've tried emptying it and leaving the door open. I've used baking soda, gone through two boxes already. I've even tried Febreze on it.
All to no prevail.
The problem isn't the fact that it stinks. It's the fact that it makes everything I put in there stink. For example: I had a half a chicken pesto panini (friggen' delicious) that I wanted to save. It was Saran wrapped, so I thought it would be safe.
Imagine, if you will, that you're planning to enjoy a nice sandwich. You're expecting something close to the flavor you has experienced the day before. Instead, it tastes like you just bit into a big odorous roll of fat old lady flab. You know the old lady smell. And now you're eating it.
"Mmmm... nom nom."
Oh, believe me, it's great.
Can you guess what I want for my birthday?