Why my life is not like a sitcom
So you first have to know I have a long-range, air-powered water shooter. I had a pigeon problem on the fire escape outside my bedroom window and on the A/C, and for the most part they're now gone. No humans were harmed in the removal of the pigeons. (And for all of you stunned by this revelation, only those of you who've been woken up by screeching baby pigeons and squabbling squabs and their mates and endless cooing and still think they're adorable get a say. Everyone else, sit down.)
I decide to make some microwave popcorn. It's 9 million degrees out, but popcorn sounds nice. Popcorn (kettle flavor) goes in, I potter around kitchen, waiting to make sure nothing goes wrong.
Then the breaker switches off the power. D'oh! You can't run the A/C even on low and the microwave in my apartment, it just trips things off. I knew that, I forgot. It works for about a minute or two, then dies. So I race to the breaker, re-trip the switch, get the corn going again, turn A/C down to fan. Then I run into the computer room to see if anything needs fixing, figuring I have a minute or two left.
The computer takes ages to reboot. I get my name plugged in, thinking, better hurry.
Back to kitchen and something's happening I've not witnessed before: Smoke, pouring from the closed edges of the microwave. Thusly:
1) Open microwave. Fill kitchen with smoke. Close microwave.
2) Turn fan on high, open window. Begin fanning smoke to avoid smoke alarm going off.
3) Open closet door outside kitchen to block smoke from getting near alarm.
4) Blink rapidly because smoke in your eyes, while a nice song, burns.
5) Reverse direction of fan on A/C, open more windows.
The problem: Smoke is still in the microwave, and keeps wanting to come out. I'm clearly not choking off the oxygen supply. Solution?
Well, you know.
So that's how I came to be shooting water into my microwave on to the bag of popcorn which, thankfully, was not in flames. It wasn't quite a "Die Hard" move, but with this pistol and wearing just a tank top I did have a Bruce Willis moment.
6) Remove now-saggy bag (hot!) to trash disposal, pray nothing catches fire down there.
7) Return to now-smoky kitchen and clean out microwave.
8) Put drops in eyes.
9) Order pizza.
The way this is not a sitcom is that if I'd been doing this on a sitcom, it would have happened on a night when I was entertaining 15 guests, all of whom could drastically alter the course of my life's direction (see "The Simpsons: 2 Dozen and 1 Greyhounds" etc.)
Mike, you should have been coming over with the zucchini.