This I Think Is True: Wisdom From My Aunt Mallory, Akron Ice Machine Mechanic Of The Year

March 12, 2012

I’m gonna sound like an asshole here, but I tell you what, I’d plum be out of a job if people would just unplug their machines and plug ‘em back in. That’s a reset right there, but no one seems to know it or even try it. But don’t fucking print that, or you can bet your ass there’ll be no more trips to Cabo with your cousin Rick.

The key to good ice is a gentle crunch. I can give you that gentle crunch. I can. But if you breathe over my shoulder with that day-old Fritos breath the entire time I’m working, I ain’t gonna give you a thing. Not trying to call you out here, Buddy Chisolm of West Akron Spirits & More.

Well what the fuck do you think my fingers feel like? They’re fucking cold. I’m an ice machine mechanic. They’re cold all the time. If I wasn’t single again (Fuck you, Teddy!), I’d maybe be concerned.

The worst? Oh, I’d have to say the worst is motels. They just smell like sadness. Their ice does too. Red Roof Inn in particular.

That’s a great question. And I can’t say I have an answer. But I guess—and don’t quote me here, son—but if I had to guess, I’d say probably block ice. It’s just so much more stackable than party ice. But again, that’s just my guess. And even though I like the question, I find it unrealistic that the President is going to ever be filling up an ice machine, much less having an opinion about what he’s stacking. But goddamnit, what I can say is that man sure is handsome. With a voice that could blush a nun, am I wrong.


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