Good Things Come to Those Who Wait.

Remember this post?

Well, it’s been nearly six years now since we moved into this house.

Six years with that old, small 22 cu. ft. fridge. Yes, that’s small. We cook at home a lot, so we have a lot of food in the fridge.

And that husband of mine kept fixing it.

But finally this week, after using a knife honer to break up the big block of ice formed in the ice bin for the umpteenth time, even Greg was sick of it.

“Go look at refrigerators,” he said.

So I did.

With purpose in my step and Ethan trailing along, I marched into Lowes and all the way to the back, my eyes drawn to a few gleaming beauties at the ends of the multiple aisles of refrigerators.

Naturally, those are the most expensive ones. Oh, marketing geniuses, I’m onto you. I looked inside the refrigerators, looked up at the price tag, and sighed wistfully.

Reason reigned, and I walked the inner aisles looking for a suitable substitute. I kept returning to those sexy refrigerators on the endcaps, though.

I couldn’t justify that kind of expense for a refrigerator, even if it was a whopping 27 cubic feet AND would fit into the space I needed AND was stainless steel AND had French doors with a bottom-mount freezer AND a swanky touch pad for controls. And I didn’t really enter the store with the intention of buying that day.

But I could dream, right?

And frankly, I thought the touch pad was way over the top. Yes, you can set it to dispense X ounces of water so you don’t have to use a measuring cup, but really? Do I need that? I think not. I’m lazy but I’m not that lazy. Ridiculous excess.

So just as I was going to walk the inner aisles one last time, the department manager came by. “Ma’am,” he asked, “are you looking for a French door refrigerator?”

“Well,” I responded, “I think so. To be honest, I’m not really sure what I’m looking for.”

Note: Yes, I regularly end sentences with prepositions when I’m speaking.

Then he started telling me about the nice features of one of the sexiest refrigerators, one of those that had commanded the longest of my longing gazes. I didn’t want to be rude, but I had already made up my mind that I was not going to spend That Kind of Money, so I was only half-listening when he spoke a word that brought me to attention.

That word was “Clearance.”

“Clearance?” I asked.

“Yeah, have you seen this one over in our clearance aisle?”

Well no, no, I had not, so I followed the Pied Piper of Lowes over to the clearance aisle, wherein sat another of The Refrigerators. The one with the siren song. The one he’d just shown me. And it was marked down by $400.

“This one,” he said, “the reason it’s on clearance is that a customer (who was quite difficult) returned two of these refrigerators before he was happy. In fact, the only part of this refrigerator that has even been out of the store is the door. This guy, he was an airplane engineer, he was so particular that when his refrigerator got to his house he saw a dent in this door that we can’t even see; so we swapped out that door with one on a brand new fridge here in the store, but because we did that we had to put the brand new one on clearance. So I think I could let this go for…” And he started calculating.

I’m a pretty fast thinker, so in the 10 seconds or so that he was ruminating, I thought, “Maybe I should offer him $200 below the clearance price. That would be a full $600 below retail. That’s a pretty sweet deal. Hmm, but what if I do that and he tells me no? I don’t like rejection. I hate price haggling. I never know how to do it and I always feel like an asshole. I can’t see a dent in that door but even if I could, so what? I have two kids, one of whom is in a very destructive phase right now. It won’t be long until Ethan’s shooting BBs at it anyway….”

And then the salesman opened his mouth and I could have sworn all I heard were choirs rejoicing because lo, he quoted me a price that was ONE THOUSAND DOLLARS below the retail price. I thought I heard him wrong, so I quoted it back to him and he said yes, and oh, I called Greg.

Greg was trying to drive home. Greg probably thought there was some emergency from the way I was gushing. I don’t usually gush and, as a rule, frown upon the practice. On this occasion, however, I was unashamed.

“Greg! Where are you? Can you stop by the Lowes at the Bluffs? I’ve found a fridge and it’s huge and I think it’ll fit and it’s on CLEARANCE, on clearance, I tell you, and the guy says we can have it for a FULL THOUSAND below the regular price oh my god you can’t get a regular fridge like the one we have for that and there’s a dent in the door but I can’t see it, but I know if anyone will see it you will see it and so I don’t want to pull the trigger and buy this until you’ve had a chance to look it over.”

So he said he was on his way, and before he got there I called him at least once more (maybe twice, actually) to check on his progress.

Aren’t you glad he married me and you didn’t?

Anyway, so to avoid making a long story even longer, suffice it to say Greg came, Greg saw, Greg purchased.

And now we have this:

new fridge front

with about half to two-thirds of our food transferred from the old fridge

empty freezer begging for our food

Now we have to replace the range. It’s the only white appliance we have left.

Kidding. But Greg suggested I start trolling the clearance aisle at Lowes. He also suggested swiping a ball-peen hammer and hurrying the process along a bit.

He was kidding, too.

I think.