Ode to the hiss of escaping freon

The BBQ Pit
1

My tiny little apartment fridge needed to be defrosted, and I chose today for the attempt.

It’s not much bigger than the unit kids have in their dorms, with a small metal tray, open at front and back, that denotes all the freezing ability I have in this little Upper East Side studio. But I’ve grown to respect it, though its arctic powers aren’t great enough to keep ice cream firm, or even to freeze chicken reliably. I’ve defrosted it before, and I would do so again.

Did I opt for the slow, drippy defrost? No, of course not. I’d just bought a load of food the other day, at least all that I could safely fit in the fridge, so it seemed the speedy route was the way to go. Yes, the speedy route: the liberal application of a hammer to the largest glaciers, with judicious use of a screwdriver where the ice was too stubborn or the angle too bad for whacking.

I suppose you can all see where this is going. About a quarter of the way through, I came to a piece of permafrost that resisted the gentle caresses of my hammer. Out came the screwdriver, operating in chisel mode.

Tap.

Nothing.

TAP.

“Hmm,” I thought. “This ice seems firmer than the rest – the screwdriver didn’t even move.”

TAP!

FSSSSssssssssss"Whoa, shit!"sssssssssssssssssssss sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss.

Mother H. Fucker. Now I have a broken cooling unit that my landlord can’t replace – after all, my own stupidity broke it. One repair service said they couldn’t be here before next Wednesday, and they only take cash from first-time customers. Three others told me that it would be an expensive repair that they couldn’t even guarantee, and that I’d be better off buying a new fridge.

Just faboo! It’s not like I need my rapidly-dwindling savings to pay my RENT or anything. I’m sure this shitty economy will magically produce a job so that I can afford this new icebox. Dammit goatfuck blankety-blank sandwich. If I’d been smart, I would have stayed there and inhaled the freon, flash-freezing my lungs so I wouldn’t have to deal with this shit. Meat will go bad. Beer will go skunky, unless I decide to get drunk right fucking now. And my credit cards will get packed just that much tighter.

2

May I just say…BWAAHAAAHAAHAAHAA!

Sorry, but I can just picture it - <tink-tink> <TINK-TINK> <FSHHHHHHH> “Fuck me!”

Sucks about the fridge, man, but at least now you know to respect the god of refrigeration.:smiley:

3

Thanks, Syz. I needed that – I had a good laugh at your response. I’m still having it, in fact.

Me = :wally

Heh. Fuck me, I guess.

4

hey capn, consider yourself lucky. ive read that more people than you think have killed themselves just that way. i dont have a cite. glad yer still with us.

5

I’m still trying to figure out just what you make a

out of. :smiley:

However, look at it on the bright side. Next time you will probably put a big pan of hot water in the freezer instead of going the hammer/screwdriver route. :smiley:

[sub] well, I would. [/sub]

6

So you’re telling us you’ve suddenly got a lot of food and beer that need to be consumed quickly. You need to be inviting NY dopers over for din din.

7

An update on my state of domestic affairs. the cost to replace this dinky-dick little fridge is $490, including tax and delivery. I could have hired two good call girls for that money – granted, they wouldn’t have kept my food cold, but they could have taken my mind off the problem. Not only that, but I’d get to be an active partner in the fucking, instead of getting dry-gulched by the Tony Soprano wannabes over at the appliance store.

8

Er, sorry essvee, but I rather doubt that. Freon isn’t particularly toxic. It can be dangerous because it’s heavier than air, so if there’s enough of it, it can cause asphyxiation by replacing the air in a room. But there’s not enough freon in a home unit to be dangerous. Though folks have died in commercial/industrial facilities.