Father Time is operating a blow-torch behind me. It isn't often that you see a Korean man with a full on beard, let alone a big bushy white one that reaches half-way down his chest. But, yet, here he is fixing my fridge.
Since my last post, two mornings have gone by with nary a fridge repairman visiting my apartment. The first day it was because he was too busy. The 2nd day, it was because of the rain. I don't know why the rain prevented his visit. He doesn't look like he's made out of sugar. (Granted, I haven't tasted him, maybe he is Father Sugar Time.)
Anyways, here's to the thought of an icy cold beer on a Friday night.
Cross your fingers!
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