Icecapades (#28)

This is part 2. The one with the ice. It’s what turned me.


Our generator’s out again. We’re back on ice. Luckily for us, huge blocks sit smoking silently up at the marina awaiting our purchase. Low on supplies, we loaded up at Publix and dashed back to the marina before they closed. We made it with ten minutes to spare. As the Captain unloaded our booty, I sprinted to the office. The assistant dock master, the one we all generally like, was there.
“Powers!” I shouted enthusiastically, “I need two blocks of ice.”
“Can’t do it.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“Nope. The register’s closed.”
“Why?” 
“Because.”
“But your sign says you’re open to 6:00. It’s 5:50. Hey, no matter. I’ll just leave the money with you and you can put it in tomorrow.”
“No can do.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope.”
“Look, our generators out. We’ve got $100 worth of perishable food sitting on the dock. And you’re standing in front of the ice machine. Can you write it down and I’ll pay you first thing in the morning?”
“No can do. There’s another machine at the gas station down the street. I can give you a lift.”
“You’re kidding. You want me to drive to a gas station when there’s a freezer full of ice two feet in front of me?”
“Yup. You need a lift?”
I was so pissed I left the marina ice free. We got ice the next morning. Unfortunately, our milk expired that night. We gave it a proper burial at sea.
Now I spend a lot of time looking at the marina through the scope of my deer rifle. With an icy look in my eye.