Adventures at the Flintlake…I’m on FIRE!
Living on my own (or at least away from my boyfriend and father) there are a few things I’ve had to learn. A few weeks ago I learned what a trap pipe is and how terrible it smells when it gets clogged. But the feeling of accomplishment of unclogging hair- and the Lord only knows what else- makes my adventures in plumbing worth the dry heaves from the smell.
Now, tonight was a different story. Silly me, I ordered checks with the wrong account number on them. My brilliant, simple fix? Burn the darn things.
I certainly was proud to have matches tucked away in my jewelry box. And to be safe, I decided to do my controlled burn in the bathroom sink. Everything was going fine. It took a few matches to get the blaze going and them…ahhhhhhhh. Surely no one would be able to steal my identity now.
Little did I know, my smoke detectors work. Imagine that. Within a few seconds of my project the three-count them three- smoke detectors in my room and bathroom were blaring in my ears. They must be connected to the ones down stairs too! Before I knew what was happening, my apartment turned into a bleeping, beeping mess of smoke.
Trying to spare myself the embarrassment of the fire department showing up at my house, I quickly took to fanning the beeping devils with my snake-skinned clutch. Running down stairs, I opened the sliding glass door and turned the ceiling fan on full blast.
In the midst of getting the beeping devils to cut off, I forgot about my sink running with 3 books of checks in it. I came up stairs to find the sink overflowing with half cooked checks and black, sooty water.
It looks like my plumbing skills will come in handy again, I guess. Wish me luck cleaning up the mess.
Rebecca Ryan
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