When I rejoined Summit in the fall of 2011, after a four-year sabbatical as a sports journalist, I didn’t really know what I was doing. I thought to make an apple cider, all we did was steam apple juice (turns out, not correct). Dress slacks and pink buttondowns don’t look as good after 8 hours behind the Summit bar as they might after 8 hours behind a computer. And I had no idea the actual, honest-to-God, physical danger I was about to encounter.
There I was, no more than 13 hours into my second tenure at Summit, when the big old milk fridge on wheels suddenly didn’t have wheels any longer. And when the big old milk fridge lost its wheels, down came that milk fridge. My apologies to this day to whomever got the latte I was making, but when those 64 gallons of milk came crashing through the now absent glass doors, knocking down those 24 bottles of flavor syrup and forming a pool of sugar dairy delight on the floor, I stopped paying attention to the drink.
All this is to say, 52 months later, that wheel-less and door-less fridge is no more. It was a tough bastard, that fridge. Around it, we’ve introduced a new ice machine, new kegerator, 3 new refrigerators, new espresso machine, new paint colors, new staff and new coffee. So what can you say, really, when on the first of this new year that fridge decides to call it quits? What more can you expect from that used fridge, purchased from Our Towns Habitat in 2010 and survivor of the Great Crash of 2011?
In some ways, it was the last eye sore behind the bar at Summit’s Basecamp. The last vestige of an older design, of these Polaroid pictures, of Dave Beam and Dave Beam’s dreadlocks. Today, we welcome a newer, lower, sleeker fridge, one that fits our evolving design aesthetic and gives us much needed counter space.
But let’s pour one out (a gallon of milk, perhaps) for that old, finicky fridge. Thanks for everything.