My fiance and I are moving in together and we hit a snag.
My Polar Bear has lived in his apartment for over 8 years. (This amazes me to no end, I typically stay in one place for 2 years and then have to move for one reason
or another. Damn black helicopters. ) When he first moved in, the building was owned by an elderly gentelman. A couple of years later, the landlord passed away. Murphy’s Law struck while the building was in inheritance limbo: the fridge in Bear’s unit died. Since its hard to live without a refrigerator, Bear bought a new one, had the old one taken away and told the owner’s son what had happened and what he did. Eventually, the apartment building was sold to a property management company.
At the beginning of this month, Bear gave notice of his move &told the Company that he would be taking the fridge and he had the paperwork to prove that it was his. Since our new place had all new appliances, we decided to sell his fridge to my former house mates. We moved this weekend, a very stressful chaotic process. Bear checked his mail for the last time. There was a letter from the Company saying they wanted to check the serial numbers on the fridge to see if it was really a new one! It took them **two fucking weeks ** to snail mail a notice. We had already taken Bear’s fridge to my friends’ house - no small feat that.
“Well, do we take the fridge back?” asks Bear.
“Hell fucking no! You have the reciepts for it, show them that.”
“They want to see a fridge and I don’t want to be taken to court,” says Bear.
A light bulb goes off in my head. My friend’s old fridge was once avacodo green, then spray painted black, the motor is on its last leg, food was held onto the door shelves with bungee cords.
“Hey Kestrel! Can we have the your old fridge?”
“Sure Mouse, but I haven’t wiped to out. I just took the food out and put it in the new one.”
“That’s great! We’ll take it was is.”
Now the Company has a fridge. Its what they wanted. I will be soooo glad when all the moving and wedding stuff is over. ;j