Welcome to part 2 and cheers for making it. Grab yourself a glass of wine.
Arriving in Greymouth, somewhat rattled after almost unintentionally becoming the human version of a rock thrown off of a bridge, we checked into our hostel (a technicolour wonder where literally no wall was the same colour as another, run by a friendly Israeli family) and went shopping. Then I ruined a microwave.
To start with, I bought wine. I bought too much wine. I drank the wine, too much wine. Sarah decided while shopping that she wanted a baked potato with a bunch of stuff on it so we bought an assortment of stuff (I dont remember, I was focused on wine).
Upon grabbing said potato, it is so hot that I throw it against a wall (in a shared kitchen). Realizing what I have done, I clean up the mess and hide all the evidence like a potato-hoarding squirrel prepping for winter. Sarah soon arrives and I tell her that we are 'dining at a fancy restaurant...its called McDonalds' without explanation.
Arriving in Greymouth, somewhat rattled after almost unintentionally becoming the human version of a rock thrown off of a bridge, we checked into our hostel (a technicolour wonder where literally no wall was the same colour as another, run by a friendly Israeli family) and went shopping. Then I ruined a microwave.
To start with, I bought wine. I bought too much wine. I drank the wine, too much wine. Sarah decided while shopping that she wanted a baked potato with a bunch of stuff on it so we bought an assortment of stuff (I dont remember, I was focused on wine).
Thus began the great cooking adventure.
Being so freaked out after the uncontrollable downhill screaming incident, I immediately downed 3/4 of a bottle of wine before cooking. 'It'll be fine' I said to myself, 'it's JUST a baked potato'. I readied the toppings (I think Ham, cheese, pineapple, spring onions, garlic butter...some other shit) and put a potato in each microwave, setting them for 6 minutes. after about 2 minutes, one of the hostel staff came in and freaked out because captain cookery (me) had wrapped the fucking things in Aluminium foil due to drunkeness and trauma. However, he only saved the first microwave as the second was hidden behind a fridge.
I forgot about the inappropriateness of the Aluminium foil as I went for more wine (it should be noted that I was studying engineering with a focus on materials science at the time...extra idiot points). At around the 5 minute mark, I begin to hear sizzling, see smoke, sparks and an unusual glow from the remaining microwave. I run over and yank out the cord, thinking I have saved the day. I have not. A few minutes later I daringly opened the microwave door to find the interior blackened in many parts and go to remove the poor potato, which turns out to not be a poor potato as it is hotter than the asshole of a dying star.
Upon grabbing said potato, it is so hot that I throw it against a wall (in a shared kitchen). Realizing what I have done, I clean up the mess and hide all the evidence like a potato-hoarding squirrel prepping for winter. Sarah soon arrives and I tell her that we are 'dining at a fancy restaurant...its called McDonalds' without explanation.
Comments
Post a Comment