by Nic Olson
One of those jobs you get when you listen to the radio all day long. One of the worst jobs you had in your life. Your boss was a dick. Your job description included nothing more than lifting. Your colleagues couldn’t say ‘carton’ without saying ‘fuckin’ or without slurring their speech. You were a professional mover for a summer. One day on the radio there was a competition. You could win a radio-station t-shirt if you can answer the following: On average a person does this twenty-two times a day. For me that could be a number of things. Smell my armpits. Take a piss. Say the word ‘insane.’ Change my mind about a serious and pressing decision.
The answer was ‘Open the fridge door.’ Congratulations, you have now won a Swap-Shop gift card and a MIX100 t-shirt, sized XXL.
Yesterday I opened fridge doors over one-hundred times. The fridge that fed me for nearly twenty years had died, so my father and I, equipped with a measuring tape, hereditary frugality, fridge dimensions, and an open mind to the technologies for the cold storage of food, went to blood-sucking ‘No Payments Ever’ appliance stores to find a new one. With mom’s blessing, and us calmed by ice cream and free coffee, we decided upon the cheapest model.
Through testing and trial, through opening hundreds of fridges dozens of times each, I learned about fridges and myself. I found out that fridges with the freezer on the bottom are ergonomically superior. That most stainless steel fridges cannot swap door hinges. I had to open nearly one-hundred fridge doors to realize that two-door fridges are about as useful as two-door cars or two-legged dogs. I found which fridge fit my lifestyle by simply opening a shitload of them.
To open the fridge door is to open the door to opportunity. A combination of sauces and vegetables cold-stored for preservation. Fridges, luxurious or not, keep your food so that you can eventually seize an opportunity and make the meal that best fits your person when you decide the time is right. When you’ve finally realize that a one-door fridge is right for you, you still have to make the decision as to what meal-time opportunity will best represent your current state of hunger.
And in this glorious land of Canada, opportunity grows on trees. It flows from the faucet. It knocks on doors. All we have to do is withstand an eight-month winter and tip-toe over those that don’t get multiple opportunities in life and continue to support a government that instead of tiptoeing, stomps and spits to give us this chance at glory. Our several chances at glory.
When life closes both fridge doors, you’re out of luck. Fridges don’t have windows. And when your fridge busts, you best quickly decide which meal you want to eat, because they aren’t all going to keep. They aren’t all going to wait around.