Last night my room mate Brittany died her hair with the help of her friend Tess and our next door neighbor Aubrey. I asked Aubrey if I could make angel hair pasta in her apartment so it wouldn't taste like hair dye. She agreed, so I filled a small pan with water, set it to boil on their stove, and went back next door to chat while I waited for the water to boil. After a few minutes of entertaining conversation I stepped onto our connecting balcony to check if the water had boiled and saw smoke billowing from around the pot. "Great," I thought, "Something's burning under the burner. Better go check it out." Five steps later I arrive in front of the stove just in time to watch the burner erupt into flames. I quickly moved the pan off the burner, which freed up more space and the flames grew.
Now, Aub's apartment had just done their dishes so the counter next to the stove was covered in nice, now dry, flammable cotton towels. In a split second I had discarded the idea of going for the fire extinguisher, or scouring the cupboards looking for baking soda, the pan of water next to me was no good since I remembered from 4-H that you never put water on a stove fire, so I did the only other thing I could think of. After reaching through the flames to turn off the burner (yeah, smart, I know)...I blew. It only took two or three tries, and the flames were gone. I've never been so glad to be full of hot air :)
No comments:
Post a Comment