Well, I am a cynic no more. What I thought would be a five or ten-part series on the epic battle to get my landlord to replace our ailing refrigerator is now, a week later, fully and inexplicably resolved.
I want to make sure you guys all have front row seats to the latest saga of great banality between me and my landlord. This time, it involves a household appliance!
Our refrigerator (pictured) is not so much a refrigerator as it is a tiny vintage collectible that belongs in a museum and not in someone’s kitchen. We knew this when we moved in, our broker mentioned something about us demanding a new fridge but that we might have to pay for it, so we shrugged our shoulders and, dealing with a million other move-in stresses, told ourselves it would be fine.