C-List Blogger Tries To Burn Kitchen With Toaster, Film At 11. (It's a great movie, all about life and war and true love an' explosions, but 'til then, this):
Have I mentioned my toaster karma? It's terrible. Most machines like me and I like them. I like to think I'm middlin'-fair in the kitchen, too, competent with all the various and sundry "labor saving" devices that make the gas and power companies so happy.
Somewhere, sometime, somehow, something went terribly wrong between me and toasters. It may have been the time 20-odd years ago when, flush with money, I threw over my battered, dependable old Sunbeam (which had always made good toast but was no longer shiny) for The Toaster With A Brain. After a few weeks and multiple disasters, I realized that it did have a brain - a malevolent brain. It wanted to kill me. I had to be very careful when using it and, in due time (i.e., I had to save up), it was replaced with another, simpler toaster. Which also did not work worth squat.
From that day to this, the toasters have changed but the story has not. The blamed things can no longer be trusted. I have to hover, keeping close watch, ready to shut them down when the toast has reached the desired hue. Otherwise, baaaaaaad things happen.
Tonight, I let my guard down. I don't know why -- I was tired, distracted. I slapped a couple slices of rye in the machine, set it going and left the room.
Went off to the computer room, where Tam had a music video she wanted me to see. And then another one, in the course of which I realized I was smelling smoke.
Ran without stopping to think, down the hall, through the dining room and into the billowing clouds (yii!!) filling the kitchen. I could barely see the pot of beef stew simmering on the range, turned it off, opened a window, grabbed a fan, Tam came out to help and only then did it register with me that the. smoke. was. coming. from. the. toaster!
It was a two-slot inferno! Yanked the cord, red-hot coals of toast popped up (but not, by the luck that rescues idiots and fools, out) and said a Very Bad Word Indeed. The smell was like an old coal furnace with a short chimney on a windy day (with good reason. The former toast is now impure carbon).
Long story short, looks like no harm done, dinner was fine, we have vented the smoke... And I am wondering if maybe I should try the high-end toaster Brigid has blogged about. On the other hand, with my luck, it would suborn the fridge, too.
Friggin' toasters. What'd I ever do to them?
He Worked On A Starship
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