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A Frozen Chest Is Not Good (WTHITCHF? w/o)Sep 04 '01 Write an essay on this topic.
Popular Products in Freezers
The Bottom Line Love your chest freezer.
Well, I'm finally back after a month-long absence due to unexpected personal reasons. Let's just say that my refrigerator ran away and I had to go catch it. I tied it down so it wouldn't get away again. Little did I know that in about two weeks I would be faced with a problem of a similar nature involving my chest freezer, which I affectionately named Bob. You see, Bob wasn't a normal chest freezer. I was driving through suburban San Francisco on a warm June afternoon in the summer of 2000. I saw one particular person having a garage sale. The sale was fairly well attended, and to accommodate the size of the crowd a small tent had been erected. To keep the inside cool, a small chest freezer was straining its motor to the limits. I observed this obvious abuse and walked right up to the man. "Excuse me, sir," I began, "but you really shouldn't treat your chest freezer like that. It's just not right." The owner of the house, a gruff man in his mid-40's who had a 5-o'clock shadow and stank of booze, replied, "Oh yeah? And what're you gonna do about it?" I felt something had to be done to remedy the situation. However, words from me turned into fists from him. I felt I won, however, and after I ran him down with my 1981 Yugo, I took that little freezer to a better home. Then I went to the hospital. Bob, as the little guy came to be known, had a long, sad story. Instead of being used to save and preserve foods, little Bob had been beaten, battered, and left for broken. After I took him in, however, I personally installed a new motor, cleaned him out, and repaired the door handle. Bob was like a child to me (this being because my wife left me after I brought Bob home...but that's another story). And then, the fateful day came. I awoke one morning to find that Bob had slipped out through a window. I searched all over town to find him, and finally I did...although what I saw there was disturbing. Bob had apparently used a fake ID that said he was a 21-year old toaster oven from Sacramento, bought a bottle of Jack Daniels, and ended up lying in front of a cheap appliance outlet mall. When I rushed to his side, his last breath of chilled air escaped from the door. And there my beloved chest freezer, Bob, died in my arms. So you can now see why I've missed the past month here...but now on to the category. Know this if you know anything: chest freezers will run away if not watched closely. Learn from my mistake...don't let Bob's death be for nothing.  |
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