If Your Fridge Could Talk

Sometimes it gets really cold. Like below Mike the Mechanic’s recommended 37 degrees. On the days and too often nights when you forget to close my doors, I relish in the warmth my own light provides — whose battery is almost dead, by the way —  until that abhorrent alarm system your bedmate Isaac installed signals for you to shut me up. When that happens, it once again becomes dark and frigid and I have only the smell of the overpriced Whole Foods pre-peeled and cloved garlic to keep me company – you really need to throw those out.

Things are normally quiet until around 11 pm when, over the continuos drone of The Real Housewives of Wherever, Isaac sneaks in for boatloads of butter and bagels. This usually happens on nights when you cook. He’ll swing in, mutter a few words, something or another about how that “quinoa coated tilapia couldn’t feed a bird,” or “when did spaghetti and meatballs become zucchini and seitan?” and “what the fuck is almond cheese?”  On more occasions than one, he’s even cursed your curly kale dead while inside of me. Oh, and on the subject of kale, you didn’t forget you ate it and it didn’t mysteriously vanish.

While we’re talking, can I ask you something? Is everything okay — between you and Isaac, I mean. The reason I ask is because you guys haven’t gone out in a while. It’s been nearly 6 months since I’ve been shaken from my humdrum sleep to find you, intoxicated and ravished, raking me for something to eat. I must admit, I miss the excitement, the spontaneity of it all, don’t you? It now seems that your impromptu visits have been limited to the occasional 2 am catcall for apples and almond butter. Although I do enjoy the company that fridge-eating provides, I thought you should know that your feet are still visible, and everybody can see you.

Am I being harsh? I don’t mean to be. It’s just that there are so many milks and cheeses and bags of thrice-washed lettuce far past their expiration dates, and the anxiety of housing them all seems to be clouding my better judgement. In fact, the only thing that seems to be on a steady schedule of replenishment is the six pack of Stella and Grady’s cold brew coffee. Forgive me if I’m coming off as crass, but I’ve been silenced for so long and this has been extremely cathar — wait, hold on — I hear someth — oh! wonderful! I believe your freezer would like to have a word too.

What would your fridge say about you?

— Esther Levy

Illustration by Charlotte Fassler

  • Amelia Diamond

    Mine would say, “Please fill me with something other than mustard.”

  • Leandra Medine

    Mine would say, “your husband just came by. Again. He’s been hungry since you installed me — I feel bad for the guy.”

  • “Do you really need 15 different bottles of hot sauce even though you only use 3 of them or are you gonna keep telling yourself that they’re all completely necessary?”

    Oh, you thought I was joking? NOPE. I actually have enough hot sauce to last me through the next five world wars.


    • Esther

      toss em all save for the Cholula

      • Best idea I’ve heard all week. #cholula4ever

        • I’m actually a Crystal fan! I used to work in a cafe where people would constantly ask for the stuff. I was convinced it was off-brand…nope, it’s just delicious!

          • Ooh, thanks! I’ll have to add it to my collection

      • Allison

        Where the F is your siracha

  • GapToothedGirl

    Mine just say stop with all these organic coconut milk!! I have tried so much, but finally found the good one!!
    XOX, Gap.

  • Alarive

    Why do you keep buying cheese when you can’t eat cheese??

    • zar

      mine too 🙁

  • Mine wouldn’t say anything, it would be too hungry to speak.

  • Maryam Ele

    Mine would say, “no, I haven’t magically restocked since the last time you checked.”

  • Ray, L

    My Fridge would say” Why does your wife spend all your money on Shoes and Handbags”?

  • Ey, what’s with all this fridge cleaning?!?! You think I’m gonna poison you or what?!? And stop putting tomatoes into me week by week, they don’t belong here, you should know that by now.

  • “leave me alone”

    • Leandra Medine

      “leaf me alone”

  • You’re never going to eat all those vegetables. You’re going to end up feeding them to the chickens. You know it, I know it, buy some goddamn Doritos the first time around – instead of sending your husband out to pick them up on dome seemingly unrelated errand.

  • “Please clean me, dear. I’m not a compost bin (just because you’re incapable of composting …)”


  • Giselle

    “Clean me!”

  • Kelly’s Gross-o

    Camembert, even when it’s triple-bagged, still smells like feet.

    Also, your “cheese just makes more cheese the longer you leave it!” argument is getting a little stale. Ba dump bump.

  • “I just feel like I’m losing you to that freezer, sometimes.”

  • Joujou

    “Don’t give me that guilty look. You know you want a piece of me”

  • Boue-Aust

    Mine would say “Just letting you know that your vegetables, cottage cheese and tofu are making my middle two shelves filled with your roommate’s roast beef and chocolate pudding feel extremely self conscious”