Guest Post by John Giusti
Jon, Joe, and I played our routine game of “21” on Joe’s lowered basketball hoop, perfectly designed to allow us to easily make superior dunks on one another. It seemed like every day of every summer from sixth to tenth grade went just about the same way, though we were happy to say this.
In the middle of a game, Joe’s mother walked down the driveway towards her car to head out to work. She called out “If you boys want a drink, there’s some waters and stuff in the garage.” There had always been a case of waters in the garage, so although thankful, we were confused at why she bothered to tell us what we could have already assumed.
We probably played two more full games before the heat had defeated us, and we needed to rehydrate. Upon entering the garage, we were confused to see no case of Poland Spring on the garage floor in its usual position. What we did see, however, was a brand new bar refrigerator in the corner, stocked up with waters, Gatorades, and sodas. There was a note taped to the glass door which stated “Joe, your father and I got a lot of stuff from Culinary Depot, including this fridge. We filled it this time, but you guys will have to start bringing your own drinks over to stock this with.” And that was just fine. I would happily buy a case of drinks each week after that, knowing they could be refrigerated (practically courtside) and available to assist us on our long, dog days of summer.