Coffee and the art of freezer maintenance

In an earlier post I realize that I was unwarrently generous in my comments regarding the previous owner. It appears that she did not perform a scrap of maintenance in the last 5 years. We actually spent 5 days just hauling trash out of this place before we could open. Have you ever woken up on a Saturday morning only to discover that the object of last night's lust has been removed and the ugly bus has delivered a hideous replacement. That is pretty much what we felt like the next day after buying this money sink. Almost every piece of equipment had at least one problem and the chilled display cabinet was so completely and utterly shagged it had just been unplugged and sat in the middle of the shop looking dark and malevolent. I poked and proded her relentlesly but eventually gave up on the beast and found a man to fix it. I suspect that he had been stiffed regularly by the previous owner as I had to practically kidnap him to get him out and even then promise him cash up front. So he fixed the chiller and I fixed the lights. Now the chiller is a proud and haughty beauty and the boss's pastries actually look more than edible. So as we stock the place up the boss realizes that we need more refrigeration and it falls on me to plug in the last chiller in the kitchen. Based on past experience I just knew that one of two things was about to happen. 1. Nothing at all or 2. At the instant of the plug touching the socket there would be a huge explosion and my right arm would be blown off. Interestingly enough I tickled this thing with some volts and the compressor chugged into life, the cabinet gave a shudder like a bear waking from hibernation and I just stood there with a slack jawed expression like a retard failing a GED. Incredibly something actually works and works and oh God it won’t stop working. The temperature gauge started spinning counter clockwise as the shop headed for zero degrees Kelvin. No problem I cry, ever the optimist, I will just tweak the thermostat. Now remember this is an industrial chiller made entirely from corrosion free aluminum with of course the exception of the thermostat which was apparently made entirely of ferrous oxide. Can you guess what happened next? Of course you can. Now I have to kill the beast before it turns the kitchen into Antartica, so to steady myself I put my left hand on the sluice sink tap and with my right hand I pull the plug. I lean across the chiller which is now covered in a thin layer of condensation and my fingers wrap around the plug and make contact with the live pin. Have you ever had an electric shock? Well this was nothing like that, this was like being strapped into Old Sparky at Leavenworth. I immediately shot bolt upright and smashed my head into the pot shelf sending all sorts of cooking stuff everywhere. The noise was so scary that I ducked for cover and cracked my nose on the top of the chiller. The agony was so confusing that I tried to stand up again but this time with the presence of mind to swivel around the pot shelf. Unfortunately this just had the effect of aligning my genitals with the handle of the chiller door. At this point I took the only wise option and fainted, which actually worked well as it caused my finger to fall out of the socket. Here is a thing. Only a woman can survey this complete and utter devastation and blood, not spot my family jewels swinging lazily from the chiller door handle and in all innocence ask how things are going. No problem boss I’m on it.

Five days later it is high noon. I have the new thermostat. I stand at one end of the kitchen with a steely glint on my eye and a Philips head screwdriver in my hand. The Beverage-Aire is there at the other end just waiting. Suddenly I am reminded of the first time a woman was slutty enough to give it up for an oaf like me. A mixture of anticipation, fear and the certain knowledge that I had not got a clue what to do next. I just knew that I had to get the outer wrapping off and dig somewhere into the middle of this beast. So just like that (n)ever to be forgotten night some 30 years ago I jumped in with both feet. Off came the back cover, damn that was not it. Off with the sides, bugger not there either. OK here goes the top (Ah that takes me back) but still no joy. God where is it? I know it is in here somewhere. Finally I have this old bitch completely shucked down, she is stripped to the chassis and nothing. Come on you bitch give it up you know you want it. SHOW ME THE WAY HOME MAMA. Finally through tears of rage and frustration I peer in to the heart of this cold whore and see a little plate with a label that reads “To change the thermostat remove this cover”. What the #$%^ it was there all the time and to rub salt into my many wounds the cover is held on with thumbscrews, I didn’t even need the GD MoFo screwdriver. Cutting a long story short I did it and it worked and unlike that first night the Beverage-Aire didn’t ask if the thermostat was in yet.

Cofee bitch 1 ; Beverage-Aire 0