Envy, all you New Yorkers. Tender your wistful sighs. You may have expansive culture and arts, stunning cuisine, ingredients odd and rare abounding, but where the yards stretch wide in suburban Chattanooga, we have basements with 14-foot ceilings capable of holding the ultimate cooking convenience—a second fridge.
Here, just in time for turkey brining, is ours, a 15 year-old Amana side-by-side: full-working order, ice-maker equipped, and rusty in all the right places. Thank you, my sweet, anal father-in-law for upgrading your garage unit and bribing those Sears delivery boys with a crisp hundred to truck it to my house.
Let me assure you, readers, this beauty won’t be all work no play. When Chris finishes his MBA next month, don’t doubt that we will hang a dart board, fill that Amana with PBR, and lounge like sorry SOBs playing cricket and admiring her sweet, cold lines.
Here, just in time for turkey brining, is ours, a 15 year-old Amana side-by-side: full-working order, ice-maker equipped, and rusty in all the right places. Thank you, my sweet, anal father-in-law for upgrading your garage unit and bribing those Sears delivery boys with a crisp hundred to truck it to my house.
Let me assure you, readers, this beauty won’t be all work no play. When Chris finishes his MBA next month, don’t doubt that we will hang a dart board, fill that Amana with PBR, and lounge like sorry SOBs playing cricket and admiring her sweet, cold lines.
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