Kevin ~ The Refrigerator Repairman

by Bella Rum

Kevin, the refrigerator repair guy, fixed my fridge on Monday. You’re not going to believe this, but it was the SAME guy who repaired it last year, the one I gave career/life/education/relationship advice to. He is the sweetest kid and so smart and cute. I wish I had a niece for him.

He remembered me. Isn’t that cute? He even remembered my story about my last refrigerator (we have issues with refrigerators). We were living with Dad and came home to check on things. When I opened the door from the garage, the fetid smell of a dead animal hit me. One step into the kitchen and I saw the blood all over the floor. It looked like a crime scene. I followed the blood to the fridge. Everything in the freezer had bled out. H pulled the fridge out and found a burned area on the floor. It had caught on fire. We were lucky the house didn’t burn down.

Anyway, this kid loved me. Loved me, I tell you. What a sweetheart.

He told me that refrigerators are pretty much crap these days, and the fan on my particular fridge breaks so often that he keeps several of them on his truck . I bragged about renewing my insurance and regaled him with the legendary lives of a couple of our refrigerators and Dad’s. What kind of ego must one have to take pride in one’s appliance stories? And who brags about their repairman liking them? That would be me.

In the end, he suggested that I vacuum around the fan once a year and keep my insurance up to date. I think he thought my fridge was a particularly large piece of dung in the annals of appliance dungdom. He said it would have cost $100 just for him to drive to my house if I hadn’t had insurance. What did it cost instead? Zero. Well, minus the $100 I paid to renew the insurance, but, but, but the part and labor were free and the conversation. That’s the way I’m thinking of it anyway.

If I keep this fridge, I’ll probably see Kevin at least once a year. I wish I’d taken a picture of him. Cute.

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