I’ve never lived in a 3rd world country, but last week I returned from a weeklong trip to find that my refrigerator had shut off. An unplugged refrigerator technically qualifies as an impoverished nation. Minus the children. And sand. (UN res. 1044576).

It had enough in it to do damage.

FREEZER: 1 cheese frozen pizza, ½ bag of ricotta filled pasta shells, 3 chicken breasts (in plastic bags), 3 hamburger patties (plastic bag), one 8 oz. strip steak (wrapped), 1 container frozen orange juice, 1 container frozen grape juice, ½ container of vanilla ice cream.

REFRIGERATOR: It doesn’t matter. Nothing could have over powered the freezer. The leftover chicken broccoli Alfredo was pretty bad. If death hadn’t been squatting in the freezer for the previous 200 hours, I’m sure it would’ve smelled pretty bad on its own. Rotten Lettuce and Tomatoes were fouling up the bottom compartments. But they were contained. The plastic bags they were in even protected them from the oozing putrescence running down every surface from the upper levels.

The initial cleanup was simple; Get the meat out of the house. Easy. The next step wasn’t too difficult either: Absorb the meat juice / juice-juice / melted freezer-burn slop-stink with paper towels, and get those out of the house. Then the ice trays. I have 5. I like ice. Of all the ways to be efficient in the world I maintain that utilizing a freezer’s full potential to keep a healthy supply of ice on hand, is one of the best. Now I wanted to keep what was in the ice trays off of my hands. It was a thick mixture of all of the water that had evaporated out of all of the protein that had been sitting. Each pool represented a bacterial gazpacho. Each, a beautiful little Ebola-bortion, patiently developing a thick skin under which it could grow into a spiny monster with acid for blood and a mouth full of sharp teeth inside of a mouth full of sharp teeth. Empty them, soak them. 3 days.

After emptying the freezer, I followed the tracks of blood and angry ice cream downward to the main cabin. The vegetable drawers were the most thoroughly violated sections of the whole appliance. They had accumulated the heaviest flow of the freezer flop. There were puddles of purple and clouds of green grey. Everything was in between dying and coming back to life. The rotting vegetables caught and trapped some of the slime, but were only capable of so much. Take out the drawers. Soak. 4 days.

After I removed all drawers and shelving, I started scrubbing. Bleach. Then Ajax. Then bleach again. Then I brought in a boy choir to sing hymnals in the dairy drawer, then, a baking soda scrub down. Then a fan. 5 days.

It’s been a week and the smell is still there. Its going away slowly, and turning on the fridge again helped kill off some of the lingering bacteria. It’s to be expected. That smell would fuck a flamethrower in the mouth. I did the best I could.

I rarely remember smells. I can remember if something smelled good or bad, but not specific details about the scent. This has changed all of that. The smell has lodged itself in my memory. The only other scents living there before were, burning plastic and my first nosebleed. They definitely have a new roommate. This smell has saturated my brain. Stained it, like, grape juice on the constitution. I’m looking for a way to distract myself from it. I think I might have to broil a carp with some dread locks.

01/10/2006
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