Free Jennifer Johnson Is Sick of Being Married by Heather McElhatton Page B

architects at NASA?”
    â€œI’m guessing . . . you’ve heard of it . ”
    â€œThe Ice Empress showcased at the Tokyo Design Fair last year and caused a stampede. Do you know how hard it is to make the Japanese stampede ?”
    â€œNo . . . do you ?”
    Pho points to the dark green computer screen set into the door. “You haven’t gotten the computer turned on yet?”
    â€œNot yet. I’m trying to.”
    Pho takes the manual from me and gives me a tour of the appliance’s features: the micro-ecosystem temperature controls, the automatic vegetable-misting nozzles that sense when produce is thirsty, the smoked-meat cubby, and the solid teak cheese-aging drawer. It even has a hydrothermal champagne chilling station. “The second-coolest thing about the Ice Empress 3000 is its zero-tolerance pest policy. The Ice Empress has a satellite monitoring system inside that detects harmful pests and bacteria; it signals a purification program and built-in infrared lights murder any bugs inside. This cool steam gun sterilizes the kill zone.”
    I look at him and blink. “My refrigerator has a kill zone?”
    â€œAfterward, the aromatherapy jets mist the air with a scent of your choice . . . Japanese cherry blossom, huckleberry pie, or roasted Tahitian vanilla bean.”
    â€œSo, you said something about the purification system being the second-coolest thing? What’s the coolest?”
    Pho walks over to the Ice Empress. “You know about the onboard geisha, right?”
    â€œThe what?”
    He pushes some buttons on the inside panel and shuts the door. The dark green computer screen lights up and Pho steps back beside me. Together we watch the chrome doors.
    â€œHere she comes!” Pho whispers.
    Suddenly a disembodied geisha head floats on the dark green computer screen. “What the hell’s that?” I point at her. She has a flawless oval face and bright pink lips like a strawberry.
    â€œThat’s the Ice Empress,” Pho says.
    â€œNaniga hoshiino?” the geisha says suddenly. Ace starts barking at her and I look over at Pho.
    He shrugs at me. “Do I look like I speak Japanese?”
    â€œWell . . . yeah. You do.”
    He rolls his eyes at me.
    The Ice Empress bows deeply at us. “Moshi moshi!” she says.
    â€œHello.” I bow back.
    â€œYou are American ?” she asks, smiling. How the hell did she know that? Pho says it’s her voice-recognition software. She can detect accents. I tell her we’re Canadians.
    â€œWhy’d you tell her that?” Pho asks.
    â€œBecause nothing good comes from being an American. Trust me. You all want your green cards so badly, but I’m telling you, it’s the pits.”
    â€œI am an American,” Pho says flatly. “I was born in Milwaukee.”
    The Ice Empress giggles. “My name is Ice Empress!” she says.
    I roll my eyes. “We have an empress in the house.” I sigh. “Great. How high-maintenance is that? It’s like Real Housewives of the Upscale Appliances. ”
    â€œYou’re funny!” She giggles. “You are a funny little American!”
    â€œPardon?”
    â€œI’ll name you Aho-Onna!” she says. “That means ‘funny lady with pretty face’!”
    â€œRight. She can learn names?” I ask Pho.
    He nods. “She has a wicked proximity linguistics program. She learns new words and uses them.”
    â€œActually, my name’s Jennifer,” I tell her. “You can call me Jen. I guess.”
    The Ice Empress bows deeply and says, “ Moshi moshi, Jen Aho-Onna.”
    â€œUm, Ice Empress?” Pho whispers. “You can call me Pimp-Ninja Pho.”
    The Ice Empress bows at Pho. “You are handsome!” she says. “I will name you Inpo Pho. That means ‘handsome one.’ ”
    â€œWhy is she naming us ?” I ask him.
    He