Thursday, September 09, 2010
Who Ya Gonna Call?
Remember that scene in Ghostbusters where Sigourney Weaver opens up her fridge and there's like a temple and these fire breathing creatures in there and someone says "Zuul?" Well, that happened in my house this week. Well, except for the creatures and the temple and the Zuul. On Tuesday morning it was 127 degrees in my refrigerator when I woke up. I thought the number on the digital thermometer might be mistaken until I saw that the milk had curdled as though it had been sitting in the sun. Then I noticed that all of the cheese (and I do tend to have a lot of cheese) had melted. I reached for a Diet Coke and almost ended up with third degree burns.
Needless to say, I wasn't really sure what to do, other than clean up the liquid butter filling up the side compartment, of course. I took all of my groceries out to the trash and started in on my favorite past time of fishing through the manual drawer for the relevant paperwork. Then I inspected the situation a bit more closely, which led me to the realization that the fridge has a drawer that can be used for a "turbo defrost." Apparently, that drawer believed it had ten minutes to warm up a 25 pound turkey. So I deactivated it and sure enough the temperature dropped to more typical regions.
It was too late for my poor sour cream, though. It went from sour to downright Joan Rivers.
Remember that scene in Ghostbusters where Sigourney Weaver opens up her fridge and there's like a temple and these fire breathing creatures in there and someone says "Zuul?" Well, that happened in my house this week. Well, except for the creatures and the temple and the Zuul. On Tuesday morning it was 127 degrees in my refrigerator when I woke up. I thought the number on the digital thermometer might be mistaken until I saw that the milk had curdled as though it had been sitting in the sun. Then I noticed that all of the cheese (and I do tend to have a lot of cheese) had melted. I reached for a Diet Coke and almost ended up with third degree burns.
Needless to say, I wasn't really sure what to do, other than clean up the liquid butter filling up the side compartment, of course. I took all of my groceries out to the trash and started in on my favorite past time of fishing through the manual drawer for the relevant paperwork. Then I inspected the situation a bit more closely, which led me to the realization that the fridge has a drawer that can be used for a "turbo defrost." Apparently, that drawer believed it had ten minutes to warm up a 25 pound turkey. So I deactivated it and sure enough the temperature dropped to more typical regions.
It was too late for my poor sour cream, though. It went from sour to downright Joan Rivers.
