About a year and a half ago my now wife then girlfriend and I were trying to cut costs by moving into a non-furnished apartment. We’d been staying at a pretty nice place in San Borja for 240$ a month (everything included) and although that’s super cheap by American standards, here in Lima you can do better.
Since my wife basically has all the necessary amendities for living (TV…Bed…etc.) all we needed was a fridge. Not wanting to spend any money, I sold my wife on the idea of buying a mini-fridge. So we went down to Saga Falabella to pick one up.
The above model was the biggest one they had for around 600 Soles (two hundred dollars) so we made the purchase. Everything was going well until we tried to convince a Taxi to take us the 10 or so blocks to our house.
“Oh, that’s going to cost you 20 Soles,” the salesman said.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I politely replied, “it’s like a 4 Sole taxi ride.”
“No sir, it’s more because of the cargo,” he said, “plus you can’t put the mini-fridge on its side or the freon stars pouring into the tubes…blah…blah…blah…”
He kept speaking, but the minute some salesman starts trying to convince me of something I know to be ridiculous I get furious and just tune them out.
“Naw,” I growled finally, “we don’t NEED a stupid taxi!”
“Excuse me sir,” the guy said increadulously.
“We’re going to WALK!”
“But sir you can’t…”
“I’m going to CARRY IT! GET OUT OF MY WAY!”
And I was so angry I stepped forward and lifted the mini-fridge off the stupid little dolly the guy was using to push it around with and I sprinted for the door.
Sigh…the frivolous misspent energy of my wayward youth.
Anyway, what I’ve failed to mention is that although the mini-fridge looks small enough in the above photo, the thing is that they had it all wraped up in stuffing and cardboard boxes so it was like twice as big as what appears above. It was so big, in fact, that I couldn’t get my arms around the darn thing and once I’d lifted it, I couldn’t see where I was going. I needed to rely on my wife to tell me where to go.
Now, I just have to mention that my wife thought this whole thing was hilareous and she was pretty offended by the fact that the guy was trying to get us to pay 20 soles for a taxi ride. So she was trotting along merrily beside me laughing at the look of stupification that was plastered all over the salesmans face as I left the building carrying the refridgerator (I wonder if he went home and told that story to his family…I bet he did).
My anger lent me strength, but after about a block and a half, my anger peetered out and I was stuck in the middle of the street with a heavy frickin’ fridge. I have to admit, it turned into a death march. Heres the route:
Zulma eventually had to led a hand, and as we passed weary block after weary block very polite men would see my poor wife struggling along with me and come rushing chivalrously to our aid.
“Where do you need to go?” they’d ask thinking we were on the precipice of our house.
“Five more blocks,” I’d grunt.
At this they’d look at me strangely and wander off.
Eventually we made it to the house and then went up the five flights of stairs with the thing (that would have been enough exercise even if we had gotten the taxi). And the Fridge has served us faithfully until this day (although we’re planning on getting a real sized fridge in the next few weeks).