My refrigerator is ancient relic from pre historic times, but it works just fine. The icemaker, however, has been on the blink for quite some time now. Oh, it makes ice just fine: the water kicks on with a little whirring sound; the purr of the ice maker motor is heard, and the crash of ice cubes being dumped into the bin echoes in the freezer compartment.
Yes, it makes ice just fine, but it also leaks. Water runs down into the bin where the ice cubes are and freezes. Soon, instead of individual ice cubes, I have one large block of ice. I have become accustomed to not having any ice except maybe a few cubes that have not yet frozen together. It is annoying, but why have it fixed? How much longer can the old refrigerator last?
I have already been scoping out the new ones, the stainless steel models at over a thousand bucks, the phony stainless steel ones, and the black ones that match the dishwasher that I bought a few years ago. The prices make me dizzy.
I periodically remove the block of ice and put it into the sink to melt while the old icemaker tries to make new ice faster than the leak can freeze cubes together.
A person can only go without ice for so long. Oh, sure, I could buy ice or make it in ice trays, but I’ve been spoiled like the rest of the world. I want an icemaker! I finally become disgusted with the whole mess. “I’m getting that thing fixed regardless of how old the fridge is,” I decide. I check the yellow pages. “We fix all makes and models,” the ad says. So, I call. He will come tomorrow.
I need a new icemaker the repairman determines the next day. What a surprise. However, it seems that nothing can be fixed in one trip these days. He makes an appointment to come back next Monday. I won’t be here, but my daughter will — I believe.
When I get home from work on Monday, the repairman’s card is in the door. My daughter had car trouble, and wasn’t here when he came. No icemaker. I call and apologize and ask him to come back on Friday. He agrees. Friday comes and I wait and wait, but no repairman. “He is getting even with me for not being here when he came before,” I think to myself.
I call, but get no answer, so I leave a message and continue waiting. I wait until noon and call again. The line is busy. I wait another 10 minutes and call again. This time he answers. “Ah, ha! I’ve got him now!”
“This is Ms. Moss,” I explain. “It is after noon and you said you would be here in the morning.”
“Oh, yeah, I forgot about you. I’ll be there in about 30 minutes.”
He forgot? What a professional! I am beginning to wonder if he even knows how to fix refrigerators.
An hour later he finally shows up at the door with a new icemaker. He tracks some kind of black stuff all over the kitchen floor and tells me about his problems with online banking while working. He finally finishes, charges me an arm and a leg, and leaves.
At least the icemaker is finally fixed. The refrigerator is still as ugly as ever, but it runs like new. I have more ice than I know what to do with. The ice bin is full and overflowing. I practically own a glacier.
I’ve been thinking that I could get the fridge sprayed black and it would look brand new. But, why bother? I don’t know how, but I know — I just know — that since I’ve spent all that money to fix the icemaker, the refrigerator is bound to conk out any day now.