How Brodie got his Fridge Back.

I woke up Thursday morning with a certain spring in my step. It was the 15th. Rent day. Or, in our case, Fridge day. I had been trying to contact Jerry, our landlord, for 5 days now. He had been conveniently "away" that whole time. I knew that he would come knocking today, and I knew the lease was on our side.

On my way to work, a truck pulled up beside me. It was Ben, Jerry's father. He rolled down the window and offered me a drive to work. I was already more than halfway into my five minute walk, but I accepted.

"How are you today?" he asked.

"Good, thanks."

"You going to pay Jerry the rent money today?"

Ben exhaled a puff of his cigarette out the window. This had the makings of a mob movie scene, except I was in a giant chev truck instead of a big black car.

"Yeah, we told him to come by today."

"I think he's up to no good. I want you to give the rent money to me. I'll budget it for him."

I wanted to believe that Ben was doing this for the good of Jerry, in the same way that any father would try and help a wayward son. I knew Ben was a prominent member of the church. But I had also found out, as one does in a small town, that he had recently fallen off the wagon, and that he had his own problems with booze. Of course none of that really mattered, because there wasn't going to be much rent money left over after we got our new fridge.

"Well, I don't have a problem with doing that, except our Fridge broke down on Saturday. I checked at the Northern store, and the cheapest is just over $1000. But I think I get a discount, so there might be $100 left."

"Ok, well I'll come by your house at lunch, check the fridge, and get the money."

Nicole and I walk home for lunch every day. Ben's house is just across the street from ours. Jerry was sitting on his doorstep, and he waved to us as we came into view. He knocked and came in.

"I was just wondering if I could get the rent money."

"Yeah, well, we've been trying to get a hold of you to tell you the fridge is broken."

"Really. I heard you'd been looking for me. Let me take a look at it."

He inspected our very warm fridge. We told him how we'd been carrying our perishables to and from the store. He fiddled with the dials. Then he assured us this happened all the time when he rented the house out before. Did I mention he was loaded drunk as all this was happening?

We agreed that we would give the fridge the afternoon to come back on. If it wasn't working by five, we would have to buy a new one with the rent money.

"Do they have payment plans at the store? Like, can you pay so much per month?"

"Um, I don't know. I don't think so," I lied.

"Alright. Well, this afternoon then."

And we thought it was over. But it wasn't. He was starting to wrap up the conversation when he finally worked up the nerve to say something.

"Do you think I could get some money this afternoon? Like at 3:30. Maybe two-hundred and fifty so I can buy my lil' brother a bike. He's always going on about how he wants a BMX bike. He sees me on mine, right? I promised I buy him one."

"Well, as far as I know, the store is out of bikes, except for really small ones," I said. This was the God's honest truth.

"Oh yeah, well, I'm buying this one from a friend."

Then Nicole, who swore up and down that we would not be paying an advance on next month's rent, spoke up.

"OK, if you agree to take less next month, we can give you some now as long as we get the fridge."

"Yeah, that's cool, that's cool. So mebbe I'll come by your office at 3:30 or so."

"Sure, that works," said Nicole.

Jerry left and only came back once in the next half hour. As we were getting ready to go back to work, he knocked on the door again. He stuck his hand in the fridge and see if it was getting any colder, which it was not.

That afternoon I went out to the store's warehouse to look for more fridges. I'm sure that sounds absurd. Fridges are pretty big, and one would assume that a store could keep track of how many fridges it has. Not so at the Northern Store. There are really three warehouses: remnants of the Hudson's Bay Company. One is the old Hudson Bay Store. I'll write about this another time. The other two are basically log shacks with plywood floors and locked doors and boarded up windows. One is full of food. The other holds a pile of couches, loveseats, chairs and mattresses. When I say pile, I mean it literally. They are piled in there, and I am often sent out to climb through the pile, ripping at the industrial plastic to see what colour upholstery is underneath.

It was in this warehouse that I found our fridge. It was sitting just inside the door. A beautiful brown box about four feet high. The label said, "Bar Fridge - Black."

When I came back in the store, both Ben and Jerry were waiting with Nicole. I told them the good news: I had found a cheaper fridge. Now everyone would be satisfied. I led everyone over to the cash register at the customer service desk. I punched in the SKU (rhymes with spew) number, and the total came up on the cash register. $479.99. Ben, being the caring father he is, decided to do the talking for his inebriated son.

"How does that look?" I asked Ben.

"Good. Now can you do a payment plan? Half this month and half next?"

Anna, the girl who works the office was standing next to me. She pulled up Ben's account. She told him he couldn't.

"What about Jerry, he asked?"

More typing. Furrowed brow. Young Jerry didn't have an account at the store.

"What about you?" He asked me.

"If you put it on my account, we're paying it off right now," I told him.

I charged the fridge. Nicole counted out the difference from $1000 and took Ben and Jerry outside the store to pay them. She told me that they had split the money evenly. No budgeting. She also told me that Jerry never came by the office at 3:30. But he had been more frank with her after work, before He and his dad came up to see the bar fridge.

"I was wondering if I could get that two-fifty. I could pay you back Monday or Tuesday. I just gotta do a money transfer to Yellowknife. And my dad has to do one to the liquor store in Norman Wells. Once I get my package I'd be able to pay you back.".

"I wish I was a bank but I'm not. Sorry," said Nicole.

Our really cool black bar fridge now sits far from the kitchen in our living room next to the TV. That was the only place left with a plug.

We've left the old fridge where it was for a few reasons: the primary reason being we don't want to clean underneath it. The freezer still works fine, and the fridge side has become a storage space for things that probably should be refrigerated: ketchup, cheeze whiz, jam, carnation milk.

Bar fridges are cool when you have a small bachelor apartment, or when it is your "other fridge." The one you keep in your rec room only for pop and beer. Their "coolness" fades quickly when you have to choose between having cold beer after work, and keeping you mayonnaise from spoiling. And everyone knows there is really no choice there.