Let me tell you about my
refrigerator story. I left to go home from
college about three days ago. My
roommate, whom I knew before and went to high school with, wasn't moving out for another couple of days, so she told me that she was just bring the refrigerator home for us, and leave it on my
front porch if no one was home.
Well, I was sleeping, so I didn't hear her, and my parents had already left to go golfing. Therefore, she left it on the front porch as we planned. However, she dropped it off slightly earlier than planned, AND she left it in plain sight of the road. Needless to say, my other so-called friends, who were driving by in the early hours of the morning, apparently knew it was mine, and decided to play a little trick on me. (They have way too much free time.)
They tipped it up on its side, and filled the entire damn thing with ice, closed the door, and taped it shut. So, when I woke up and saw it, I would just think my roommate taped it for traveling purposes. Well, I DID.
I brought it in the house and set it on the kitchen floor, thinking it was much heavier than I remember. When I got inside, I saw a note that said "Can't wait 'til it warms up and we need something to cool off with!!!" As I looked at it, I realized it wasn't my roommate's handwriting; it was my guy best friend Paul's. Not quite understanding his note, I went about getting my room in order, leaving the refrigerator to sit unplugged in the middle of the kitchen floor.
About an hour later, I walked into the kitchen, only to step in a puddle of water. The first thought on my mind was, "Paul is dead! I am going to kill him!!!" Stupid-ass me opened the door of the damn thing, and about 600 little ice cubes, along with a bit of water, came crashing out onto the linoleum. Well, my dog was much more excited than I was, seeing as she could eat all of the ice cubes she wanted, provided she grabbed them before I cleaned them up!!!
It took me an hour to clean up all of those damn ice cubes up, even with my dog's help. However, the clean-up delay could have been due to a quick trip over to Paul's house. I grabbed every ice cube I could in about ten minutes, threw them in a bucket, and drove over to his house. Paul lives in the back part of his house, so now, I can just walk in. There is no carpet in the part of this basement that is not his room. So, I had a field day. I dumped all of these ice cubes out onto his floor. Then, I left a note saying, "It's gettin' warmer. You'll be coolin' off soon!!!" And then I went home on my merry way.
About an hour later, Paul called, pissed as all hell!!! He's like, "What are you doing? And why are there ice cubes all over my place?" I go, "Paybacks are a bitch, aren't they?" Trying to be the tough guy that he is, he attempted to deny the whole thing. But, he has the most distinct handwriting you could imagine, and besides, I have copied enough math assignments off of him to recognize the writing!!! He did end up confessing, mostly because he couldn't manage to keep a straight face.
Anyway, eight hours after delivery, the refrigerator is now happily at rest in my bedroom, free from ice cubes, free from water-leakage, free from dripping!!!