I don't find explosions quite charming. So no. Third time certainly would not be a charm. Allow me to back track a bit.
I walked into my kitchen to find once again, and to much alarm, the gas switch turned on. At least, I THINK that's the on position. I cook so rarely in the apartment that I don't even remember what is on and off for the little knob. But I'm pretty sure it's in the on position, my stomach does a couple somersaults, and then I quickly open up the windows. Unfortunately, this isn't the first time this has happened. It happened near the beginning of my stay here in Seoul as a one-room attendant. That's a "studio" apartment for those of you who are not familiar with korean lingo--which would mean most all of you. I've grown up my entire life with electric stoves, and so the idea that the energy input isn't TRULY off until you switch off that second gas switch is just completely foreign to me.
The first time I realized the switch was left on all night, it was right before I was about to prepare another batch of ramen noodles. Imagine that. In that split second, I could have been blown to bits alongside my freeze dried noodles.
"All they found of him were his flannel pajamas and ramen."
And believe me, I've been on Backdraft the Ride at Universal Studios, so I know the protocall when you're surrounded by flames. I think the floor falls out from under you too.
Imagine if my legacy had been as that one TOEFL teacher who blew up in his own studio apartment because he left the gas switch on. I've since abandoned the stove almost completely and resorted to eating out.
I have two more weeks here in Korea. One more week of teaching and then one more week of...nothing. I may cut that last week down so I can rest a bit in the States, binge on tex-mex, perhaps take a week of the Master Cleanse, and then catch the Scissor Sisters in Dallas. All before I head off to the Big Apple and the Apple of Cataluna, aka Barcelona.
I'm not about to let another foolish mistake keep me from making to the other side of the world. If I do leave the switch on again, and my apartment does blow up, just like it has in my lethal imagination, rest assured my ass will make it back West.
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2 comments:
Awwww...Paul! Scary. Please do know that if you blow yourself up in your apartment, you will be remembered for a lot more than teaching TOEFL, wearing pajamas, and eating ramen.
I remember when I first got an apartment with a gas stove (Amherst--UMass days, with Jed) and I FREAKED on a daily basis. I wasn't used to it! I would badger Jed constantly, "Do you smell gas? Is that gas? Is it on? Are you SURE you turned it off?!" No wonder he had enough of me! :)
pole, i cannot believe you're that freaked out about it. it's not like you smoke in your apartment. hahaha. anyway, i can't believe you're coming back already! good luck with the last 2 weeks!
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