Cookin with fire

*This is a story from my college days. I wasn't feeling inspired to write anything of my recent life*

The day was just like any other. I'd gone to my classes at UT, studied and then made my way home. That night I decided I was going to make chicken parmesan. My roommate was upstairs studying for some important tests and interviews that were coming up. I thought maybe the smell of some good dinner would force her to come downstairs and take a study break with me.

After I put the chicken into the oven, I stayed nearby and read a book. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash. I glanced at the oven and noticed... it was on fire! Well , what it really was was that the coil that heats in the oven was sparking and on fire. I froze. Was this really happening?? I ran over and turned off the oven. Nothing happened. The coil was still sparking and my poor chicken parmesan was, I was realizing, never going to be enjoyed.

All the lessons you learn about safety as you grow up somehow just boiled down to "call 911". So I did. The call went something like this:

Operator: 911 emergency, what is your emergency?
me: (thoughts in my head. "My chicken's on fire!" "My dinner needs saving!" ) Hi, um, I don't know if this is really an emergency but the coil inside my oven is on fire... I was trying to cook my dinner. It just happened. It wasn't my fault...
Op: I'll transfer you to the fire department

FireMan: Fire department what's your emergency
me: Hi, I don't think this is an emergency but my coil is on fire.
FM: Your what?
me: oh, uh ,the coil that heats up inside the oven. It's on fire.
FM: Have you turned the oven off?
me: yes sir
FM: alright. I'll send someone over
me: um, ok, but like I said I don't think it's really an emergency, I just wasn't sure what to do. I was trying to cook dinner and it just happened.
FM: (chuckles) No problem. We'll send someone over to check it out
me: ok thanks

I hung up and at that point paced around. I decided I should probably go tell my roommate that some fire men were coming over. On the other hand, she was really busy. I'll just tell her later about it all.... All of a sudden, sirens. LOUD sirens.
"oh crap" I thought. "They didn't need to turn on the sirens!" I ran out to the balcony and sure enough, there was the fire truck complete with sirens, lights, and firemen hanging on it. I thought I'd made it clear this was no emergency.
I decided I'd better go out the front door and guide them to the right place before they banged in someone elses door.

A gaggle of firemen in full dress, and yes don't worry- carrying AXES, ran up the stairs to my apartment and in a minute were in my kitchen. I showed them the problem area and they agreed it was a problem. They pulled the oven away from the wall and unplugged it to see if that'd help.

I explained what had happened leading up to the fire. One fireman asked what I'd be been trying to cook. "Chicken parmesan", I said defeatedly, "I was really looking forward to it." He chuckled. Then he said I'd done the right thing to call the fire department.

They busied themselves in the kitchen and I remembered that I had a roommate upstairs who still didn't know what was going on. I ran up the stairs to go tell her, but half way there I thought that I shouldn't bother her. I'd just tell her later. So I went back down the stairs. Then I thought she would probably like to know and wouldn't mind being bothered. So I went back up. Then I felt embarrased that it had taken me this long to tell her. So I went back down.

At that point the firemen said things were looking better. One said he'd like to check the smoke detectors to make sure they were in good working order. I absent mindedly told him "oh sure, it's just at the top of the stairs."

At that same moment my roommate,Sarah, realized there were a bunch of guys' voices downstairs and thought that I must have had some gentlemen friends over. It was at this point that she thought she should take a study break and come downstairs to meet our house visitors.

Sarah took about a step down the stairs and came face to face with a fully uniformed fireman. I heard her yelp. Then I heard "Uh, Janae?"

I ran up the stairs and tried to pretend like this was all perfectly normal, she had no need to worry. I'd taken care of everything. She didn't buy it.She and I came down the stairs and she saw even more firemen. I had to explain everything. I went through the whole saga. At the end of it, she laughed at me and said that I should have just told her. She concluded with "I mean, you really didn't have to call the FIRE DEPARTMENT."

At the same time all six firemen, in unison, said, "She did the right thing!" Well that cleared up any doubts she or I had had about calling them. After everything was checked out and deemed safe (my chicken didn't pass inspection) the firemen left. We thanked them for coming. I promised I'd never cook again. I shut the door and noticed a huge fireman's axe right by our door.

As if I didn't feel ridiculous enough for the evening I picked up the axe and ran outside and yelled "You forgot your axe!" The forgetful fireman came up and took his axe. No doubt thinking that a lady who couldn't handle her own chicken parmesan, had no business with an axe!

We said goodbye again. I went back inside and laughed and laughed with my roommate. I think I ended up eating cereal that night.

EPILOUGE
Since this fiasco I have made this same dish again. The next time I made it was after I got married. In fact it was the day that Nathan and I got our first puppy, Kya. I threw it up. That was the end of my chicken parmesean making.

My roommate Sarah survived the shock of her life and continued to live with me a few more months until she graduated from the business school. She's been very successful in her career and I just found out that she is getting ready to go to Stanford for her MBA.

No one was hurt during the course of this fiasco,chickens or otherwise.