I'm not sure how old our refrigerator is (it came with the condo), but shortly after we moved in I figured out one of its vegetable drawers was cracked at the top which made it fall off the slide rail. I super glued the crack closed, which solved the problem until Saturday. After lunch I opened the drawer, heard a 'clunk', and discovered that the drawer had completely broken at the crack line.
I searched for a new drawer on Amazon, but was reluctant to order something without knowing I had the exact right thing. Besides, I've been trying to patronize local places, so I expanded my search to Google, and found an appliance parts store that sounded like it might have what I needed. That store was closed, but I called first thing yesterday morning.
The man who answered the phone had a gruff voice, but he really knew his stuff. He asked me the model number of the refrigerator, and after pulling up the information, exactly which drawer needed to be replaced. (Each of the three are slightly different.) He told me he could order it and it would arrive this morning.
Sure enough, this morning I received a call telling me the part was in. The store was halfway across town but I happened to be going in that direction for something else. I just allowed an extra fifteen minutes for my extra errand.
The part store was located in the middle a nondescript strip mall, right next to a payday loan place. When I walked in I was transported back in time. The small place was small and full of character. It had a linoleum-covered floor with heavy wear marks on the traffic routes. Fifties-style vintage metal stools were placed in front of the counter. Hooks held different shapes of oven heating elements, and boxes on the shelves held water filters, drain hoses, and appliance cords.
The man I had talked to on the phone was behind the register. I gave him my name and he walked over to the side of the counter and picked up a large box. He apologized for it being opened, but said he wanted to make sure they had sent the correct item. I paid for the part, and the man printed out my receipt on his dot matrix printer.
Five years ago today: You Know You're Drinking Too Much Coffee When . . .