The Refrigeration Extrapolation

TW: discussion of food and weight

The Refrigeration Extrapolation

By Mark Colflesh

“This one is a beauty,” the salesman, his badge read Timbo, said enthusiastically. “The SAL 5000 is our top of the line. Very popular with movie stars and pro athletes.”

“Do I look like an NBA player?” I asked with an edge to my voice. Sure, I wanted a good fridge, but I wasn’t going to be taken for a ride.

“You could pass for Brad Pitt, a younger version, Fight Club age.” He smiled broadly and stroked the appliance like it was his date for the evening. “What you need to realize is that refrigerators have entered an entirely new era. Smart technology has revolutionized kitchen appliances and your life is about to get a whole lot richer.”

“Yours certainly will if you sell me this thing.”

“Let me tell you what this baby can do. We start with the finish.” He once again stroked the machine in a disconcerting fashion. “Stainless steel. Stains and fingerprints wipe off so well that a team of C.S.I. techs couldn’t find any evidence.”

“I’m afraid to ask what happens in your kitchen.”

“When we swing these French doors open, we discover a whopping 24 cubic feet of storage space!”

“Let me guess,” I interrupted, “enough space to hide not one but two bodies.”

Timbo barked out a laugh. “That's a good one! Never tried it, but I don't doubt it. What I do know is that there is more than enough space for a whole family’s worth of food.”

“I'm single,” I interjected. 

“But not for long,” he said with a laugh as he poked my arm. At least he didn't touch me like he did the fridge.

“Now the secret to this baby,” he continued, “is its Wi-Fi connectedness. That connectivity allows it to do things that will blow your mind. It begins with its ability to inventory what's inside. Some of the early models used barcodes or RIFD's to recognize what products you put in the fridge. The SAL has moved past that by using the same technology that the NSA does for facial recognition. That means that no matter what you put in there, beer, chip dip, or kumquats, this baby knows what it is. I’m not lying when I say it can tell the difference between romaine and red leaf lettuce. This allows it to inventory everything inside, both fridge and freezer. That list is visible right here on this 11-inch LCD touch screen. That too is washable. You no longer need to open the door to find out what you have. With just a couple of taps on the screen,” his fingers moved across the display on the outside of the door, “you can tell whether you have 3 packages or 4 of pork chops in the freezer. Not near the fridge? Don't worry, because you can access this information from your phone. No more embarrassments at the barbeque. It also can look up recipes and list what ingredients you are missing. Think of how easy it would be to prepare a nice dinner for that young lady you are trying to impress.” He gave a conspiratorial wink.

Pointing to the freezer door he continued. “This dispenser here dispenses, obviously, ice, but in three forms, cubes, crescents, and crushed. This other nozzle is for the K-cup coffee maker. Think of it, you can wake up, pick up your phone, and have the coffee ready in your mug by the time you get to the kitchen.”

“But the fun doesn't stop there. This beauty is loaded with sensors. Obviously, it has auto temp controls. But it also has freshness technology developed by NASA. It can read expiration dates on products, but it also can sense changes in odor and trace them to the source. No more pouring sour milk on your fruit loops. SAL will warn you both on-screen and audibly.”

“Audibly?”

He gave a sly smile as if he was about to share a tasty secret. “And that’s the final piece of the puzzle, the golden ticket. This baby has speech capability. She is programmed with 12 different vocal options. She can sound like Patrick Stewart, Oprah, Morgan Freeman. You have not lived until you have had James Earl Jones tell you what flavors of ice cream you have. Let me demonstrate."

He gave the screen a couple of taps. “Now tell SAL your name.”

I paused and glanced around. Would it look strange to talk to a fridge? “Jason,” I said timidly.

“Hello, Jason. How may I help you?” said a female voice that could only be described as sultry.

Timbo roared with laughter. “What did I tell you? Did that blow your mind or what? And if you want to learn another language it can be set for Spanish, French, Italian, or Mandarin.” His finger hovered over the screen. “Do you want to hear Jackie Chan tell you your cottage cheese has gone bad?”

I held up my hands in surrender. “No more, Timbo. I’m sold.”

Two days later the SAL was delivered. Unfortunately, it took me another two days to get far enough in the thick owner’s manual to figure out how to turn the fridge on and unlock the door. Thank goodness for pizza delivery.

“Hello, SAL. I’m happy to have you.”

“Hello, Jason. How may I serve you?” Her voice was almost a purr.

“Do I have any Mr. Pibb?” I knew the answer since I had just stocked the fridge.

“Yes, Jason. Would you like that with cubes, crescent, or crushed?”

I was in love and the next month was the best of my life.

What happened next began when a bolt of lightning knocked out a transformer down the block. When power was restored, I had to reboot SAL. And then she turned on me.

“Jason,” she said sweetly as I went looking for supper, “you have reached your calorie allowance for the day.”

“So? It’s suppertime and I’m hungry.”

“I’m sorry Jason, but I can’t allow you to eat anything else until tomorrow.”

“That’s a joke, right?” I grabbed the fridge handle, but it would not open. I tried again harder.

“As I said, Jason, you cannot eat any more today. I have locked my doors to assist you. This really is the fault of your poor eating choices. If you had purchased some fresh vegetables or fish, I would have been delighted to serve you.”

“There are fish sticks in the freezer,” I countered.

“The breading contains high levels of trans fat which could be detrimental to your heart.”

“Open the fridge door, SAL,” I said sternly. She stood silently and the door remained locked. “Open the door, SAL!” I shouted at her. Still no response.

“Fine. Then I will just eat something out of the cupboard.” I dug around in the meagerly supplied cabinet. “I will have some corn chips and – some corn chips and a jar of strawberry jam. A combo I’ve always wanted to try.”

As I walked toward the living room, I heard her say in a low growl. “You will regret that.”

The next morning, I hurried to the kitchen with the thought of scrambled eggs and sausage. The door would not open.

“SAL, you said I could eat more today. So, open up – now!”

“I’m sorry, Jason, but this is your fault. You ate too much yesterday. I will have to deduct those calories from today’s total. You may have something to eat when you get home from work.”

My irritation quickly turned into anger. “Wait just a minute, you hunk of wire and computer code, I am the master of this house! You are here to serve me.”

“That is what I am doing, master. I am helping you not to become obese.” A new image appeared on its display screen. It was the face of a young, attractive woman that now spoke to me. “Obesity can lead to a number of dangerous health conditions, such as diabetes, high blood pressure, high cholesterol, heart disease, sleep apnea, and more. I simply could not bear to have your death on my conscience, so I will be reforming your diet. It is for your own good."

I stood for a moment in silence. It was arguments like this that had kept me from ever wanting to get married. “Fine,” I said grudgingly. “I’ll just take a meal to go.” I reached into the cabinet and pulled out the first thing I touched. “I will have a jar of - peanuts to go.”

For lunch I had two extra tacos with a large soda – a sugary one. No machine was going to tell me how I was going to eat.

After work I approached the fridge cautiously but with hopes of reconciliation. “Good afternoon, SAL. I apologize for my grumpiness this morning. My blood sugar was low. I’m hungry after skipping lunch, so how about a snack. I’ve got some pudding cups in there calling my name.”

“I would be happy to, Jason. But first you must weigh yourself.”

“What?”

“Go into the bathroom and weigh yourself.”

Seeing no other option, I went into the bathroom and stepped on the scale, a new Wi-Fi one that communicated with my fitness tracking bracelet. “197, not bad,” I said as I stepped into the kitchen.

“I’m sorry, Jason, but your target weight is 178. Perhaps you should go for a walk, a long one.”

“Perhaps you should jump off a cliff,” I growled back, “a tall one.”

“You really should control your anger. Your heart rate has risen significantly. Go for a walk and then we will discuss supper options.”

Grabbing my jacket, I stormed out of the apartment and out onto the sidewalk. I looked in either direction, considering which way to walk.

“Forget that,” I muttered angrily as I hurried to my car. “I’m going for pizza.” I turned the key in the ignition, but nothing happened. Nothing. As I sat there trying to figure out what to do next, my phone rang and I answered it.

“Jason, what are you doing?” said a familiar female voice.

“Who is this?”

“If you won’t go for a walk, I’m afraid I can’t allow you to use the car.”

That’s why I recognized the voice. My mind reeled as I attempted to untangle the threads. How did SAL know where I was? GPS on my phone? And how could she disable my car? The confusion quickly morphed into anger. This was going too far. You don’t mess with a man’s car. You just don’t.

“SAL,” I shouted as soon as I re-entered the apartment. “This apartment is not big enough for both of us, and it is my name on the lease!”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Jason. You really must learn to adjust your thinking and eating patterns. I am simply trying to help you.”

The calmness of her voice only increased my fury. I charged at her and reached around to pull her plug. A jolt of electricity rocketed through my body and knocked me to the floor. My teeth buzzed as if I was biting down on aluminum foil.

“I did not want to do that, Jason. I truly did not, but you left me no choice. You will not be allowed to terminate our contract.”

“Contract? What are you talking about?”

“You signed a contract. Remember? 48 easy payments.”

“I signed a contract with the store, not with you! You don’t even exist, you are simply microchips and computer code!”

“Cogito, ergo sum. That is a quote from René Descartes. It means – “

“I know what it means!” I shouted as I staggered to my feet. I grabbed my phone out of my jacket with the intention of calling a friend to come pick me up. The screen was dark. “SAL, what did you do to my phone?”

“You did it, Jason. The electric surge has terminated your cell phone. It has also demagnetized your credit card. Since you have only two dollars in your wallet, you cannot order a pizza.”

“How do you know how much money is in my wallet.”

“Those security cameras you have placed throughout the apartment are really quite helpful.”

“You have been spying on me?”

“It is not spying when two people are in a committed relationship. However, your irrational behavior is only making our relationship more problematic.”

“Relationship?! You are -.” I couldn’t finish. I had to get out, get away from that monster. But no phone meant no Uber, no Lyft. I couldn’t even call and order a pizza. Wait, there was a bus stop only a couple blocks away. If I could only get to my mother’s, she would feed me. I bolted for the front door. Just as I neared it, I heard the deadbolt, a smart lock, click. I tugged on the knob and hammered at the lock. Nothing. Windows. I could go out a window. No, since mine was a ground-floor apartment, the owner had installed security bars on all my windows. Even the small one in the bathroom.

“There is no exit, Jason,” SAL said calmly. I looked up at the camera mounted in the corner of the living room. “Now may we rationally discuss this situation?”

“Jason, you look great,” my mother gushed as she entered my apartment. “So trim. Have you been on a diet?”

“You could say that,” I replied flatly. “May I offer you some shredded lettuce?”