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Fire! Smoke! Soot!
19 March 2003 @ 8:28 a.m.
To the tune of "London's Burning":
Kitchen's burning, kitchen's burning
draw nearer, draw nearer
In the glowing, in the smoking
Come scream and freak out.
Lost: good wok, favorite spatula, fire extinguisher, expensive candle and jar.
Last night I was out with The Little working on our communication and overall relationship. Ran home around 9:45pm to grab something. House was dark as usual. I ran through the downstairs, through the kitchen to the first floor bathroom - turned on the light. There was this odd fuzz all over EVERYTHING. First thought was that something exploded. Ran my finger over the sink - smeared like ash. That's when my smeller started to pick up the lingering smell of petroleum products burning.
Back into the kitchen, turn on the light and sure ans shit there is ash all over everything. The fire extinguisher is on the counter, pin pulled. Sitting on the kitchen table is our best large wok with the remains of everyone's favorite Rubbermaid brand spatula. Bubbles of black plasticy burned crap covered the entire surface of the pan.
The newest housemate (the one who doesn't like me much) tried to burn the kitchen down. She left the wok on the stove, filled it with oil, left the spatula in it, turned the stove on high, and walked away. Apparently it burst into flames and she freaked out. She claims the entire house was filled with a black sooty smoke. So much so, that she was forced to put the fire out with the extinguisher, turn off the smoke alarm and then run out the front door.
But then she left the house without cleaning it up! She wiped down the stove and THAT WAS IT! This is EXACTLY why this girl is an idiot. The house was literally covered in black soot and she left. When I ran through I was the only one there.
This girl will never survive the real world. To think, she was going to get an apartment by herself this year. That place would be disgustingly gross and burned to the ground.
So me, being the nice person that I am, showed her how to clean up the soot quickly and then helped her wipe down every surface in the house.
Some days I wonder about the parents of my generation - did they just completely forget to teach their children basic skills? Such as how to use a fire extinguisher (or at least think on their own - apparently she just stood there screaming for me for a while as it burned) or maybe just that you don't walk away from a stove.
The house still smells like smoke. But the housemate appears to have fully recovered and was bouncing around this morning in the kitchen making breakfast. Yet she didn't turn off all the lights which were left on last night as she passed through the house. . . . I did that later on.
Only like 40 days until my stuff will be out of here. That's it. I can make it.
currently reading: Faith of the Fallen - Terry Goodkind
currently listening: the radio (Blessed Union of Souls)
