Riddle of the Rob

Here's a riddle for ya: What's brown and smells bad?

Nope. Although technically a correct guess, it's not what I'm asking for. No, this smell is the steak in my freezer: it's no longer what we call, cold. It's no longer what we call good either.

How bout another? What's fleshy, limp and sad? That's right, the chicken in my freezer.

Sigh...

It seems my freezer forgot the purpose inherent in it's title: freeze. Now technically it's just an ice box, and even that is slowly melting. It's now moderately cool storage. Maybe optimal for a computer server room, but hardly a meat server space. I could probably keep food cooler in Lake Michigan right now. It's pretty much a draw for freshness though.

For now, I've shoved the salmon upstream with the pork to breathe by the "brisk" air vent. I'm hoping by isolating them, I can keep them good. That's right, special treatment, they're the good meat. The other meat's gone bad. I don't adhere to the "no meat left behind" policy; when meat turns bad, all the ABC Afterschool Specials on Tivo won't save them. We all know the next step. That's right: smoking and whoring; I won't allow that in my kitchen. And certainly not in my freezer. It won't be long until somebody gets a disease. Not on my watch Mr. chicken...

So I threw out the bad baby with the lukewarm bathwater, and prepared to shop.

Shopping with Rob is always an adventure. There are 2 types of Rob shopping. Type 1 is the "Rob impulse." That's usually me searching out the best gadgets in audio video or computer comfort. It's also reserved to "unnecessary" big ticket items.

That was always an interesting area for MyEx and I. One Rob's "unnecessary" is another MyEx's "obsession." Our definitions of "unnecessary" were only affiliated by the word itself.

"We NEED a new couch."

"it's unnecessary. This one works fine."

"You're walking with a hunch because of the mid-cushion dip."

"But the sofa still supports me…"

Yup. She'd grit her teeth around my wrist and force my hand to make unnecessary purchases. That got us a new sofa, a new entertainment center, new toothbrushes and a new washer. Ok, the washer was important, but only because she refused to pick up the washboard.

"You wanted washboard abs…"

She made a snide retort, but I don't remember her words. I only remember coming to, with a lump on my head and a washboard in my--nevermnid, you get the picture. That's Rob impulse shopping.

The next type of shopping is "Chicken little" shopping. That's the "I need it now variety." There's limited research; it's more like the Fisher Price ball o' shapes shopping. "I need a square. Not a plus, not an octagon…Ah a square. Thank you, goodbye."

That's shopping driven by need. Food not warm enough to revolt is important to me; call me crazy. When the chicken drops from the freezer and starts dancing like a Peter Gabriel video, it's time to replace the fridge or call a priest. Luckily for me I only need the former.

Best Buy sells that. So there I go. I look over their models. I'm torn. On the one hand I'm poor, and this is a "need only" purchase. Then again, I don't plan on buying another one really soon, and if I do buy it, shouldn't it match my other appliances? MyEx liked stainless. That's what my kitchen looks like. If I get a plain white fridge, it's gonna stick out…like the one I have now. And I won't even go into the dirt smudges on white: it makes me feel less manly.

I also need something with metal doors. If it doesn't have them, I'll have no place to put my magnets. That is a shame.

The other problem is the Rob Rule of invariability. That goes as follows: Rob will invariable spend more money than he plans. Watch:

I found a fridge. The little sales girl was cute and helpful. I'm not denying the 2 factors were probably related, but they worked well together, and they worked for me. She smiled. I nodded.

"You like this one, right?"

"Yessss Mistress…."

"Very good."

I did appreciate that she didn't try to see me the Elecrolux with incremental lighting. That's right, when you opened either door, the lights gradually got brighter. I guess that was to help curb the late night snacker blindness epidemic.

"meat loaf….OW! MY EYES! MY EYES!" followed by a tumble crash and an embarrassing trip to the hospital for a rolling-pin-ectomy from the other end. Late night bright lights are no laughing matter, and this fridge was the cure.

It was also outside my price range, so sales girl steered me towards a nice floor sample side by side.

"Cool, right?"

"Yessss Mistress…"

"Very good."

It was $400 cheaper than a new one so I really was excited. It kept my food cool. That's the square. Lets go.

"I can have this delivered on Tuesday."

"Tuesday?"

"Is that a problem?" she pulled a whip from somewhere and cracked it against the desk.

"Actually yes." My warming meat would never make 4 days.

After her whip crack charm didn't work, she tried a new tact: She explained why Tuesday. The warehouse needed to pick it up from the store, and they wouldn't do that until Monday, and then it would take an extra day to turn around.

"And if I order a new one?"

"Tomorrow."

"Oh…Well I like this one but I can't wait until Tuesday. And the full price is a little steep."

"What if I took off $100? Cool, right?"

"Yessss Mistress…"

Very good. Visa or Mastercard?"

And that's how Rob's Rule of invariability works. MyEx was well familiar with it, but rarely cared since it worked in her favor. She used it to turn cookware purchases into a cookware, pot rack, and kitchen cabinet purchases. Yes, she used her purchase power for evil, but in the end that evil suited both of us, and that's what mattered.

Rob shopping isn't really that big of a riddle. I'm a guy. My functions are tattooed on my inseam. You can read it if you like, but it's just like anything else; you just need to know how it works. For MyEx and the little sales girl it's worked pretty well.

For me? Well tomorrow I get a new fridge. What more could I ask for?