The Kegerator Misadventure: Part 1

It was Friday, 4 PM. I had gotten done counting pills at 2 and had just completed my run when Don'tworryaboutit called me.

DWAI: Dude, we have to get up north. The appliance store closes at 5.
Me: What the shit? You said they were open until 6.
DWAI: Well, I was wrong. Get moving. *click*

I was sitting at my computer sweating. It takes me a good 20 minutes to cool off after running. Today, there would be no such time allowance. The time for greatness had come.

You see, 2 weeks earlier, Don'tworryaboutit, myself, and Risk were picking out the appliances for our house. A helpful young lady showed us all the options for the standard washer, dryer, and other such domestic niceties. She could have told us said appliances aborted children while simultaneously destroying the ozone layer. We mostly just said yes, yes, yes, and fine. Hey, we're guys. Everything looked pretty much the same. The more expensive models all had more buttons and dials, but didn't really seem to do much more. All except one. Suddenly, Risk livened and gestured to the far end of the display room. His tone was inquisitive yet determined:

How much for the kegerator?

-Kegerator is a slang term for a a keg (usually of beer) stored inside of a refrigerator in order to keep the keg chilled. In most cases, the user is able to tap the keg without opening the door because of specially drilled holes.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kegerator

There it stood. A majestic, gleaming monument to consumption. The American Dream wrapped in stainless steel flowing with freon. Needless to say, we were all smitten. We bought it on the spot, with one exception. It lacked an essential part (the CO2 tank) that would need to be ordered from the outlet's supplier. Fine. The wait would be approximately one week. Long enough to consider what we had done and come to terms with a few more years of alcoholism.

I got up from my desk, showered, and drove to DWAIs in a frenzy. It was 4:36, and traffic heading north out of the city at that time of day was sluggish at best. I spent most of the drive screaming obscenities and shaking my fist angrily at commuters. I don't think it actually saved me any time.

DWAI made it to the appliance store by 4:55. It was the classic let's-hurry-the-customers-the-fuck-up-and-get-the-store-closed Friday afternoon drill. So, we grabbed the fridge and carried it out to DWAIs car. The moment of truth had come. DWAI drives a Subaru Outback, which is basically a downsized minivan. Whether or not the fridge would fit was questionable. God as my witness, it made it by about 2 centimeters. We almost had to remove the tapper.

10 minutes later we were back at DWAIs and had the fridge moved into his living room. We were still missing 2 crucial elements to the keg fridge equation. One was the keg of beer. The other was CO2 for our cannister. Getting ahold of the keg and fridge had been no problem, but the CO2 for the cannister was not an easy thing to come by at 6pm on a Friday evening in my metro area. It was time to get persuasive...