The first time my roommate and I tried to use our oven was a couple days after we'd moved in. We soon discovered that it didn't quite work right. It would only turn to 400 degrees and anyway, once you turned it past like 200 the thing would just shut completely off. We could preheat it if we barely turned the knob, but that made it kind of hard to cook anything, seeing as how we didn't know what temperature it was. One night, it took Heidi 45 minutes to make french fries. That is not normal.
So, three months later, we (and by "we," I mean Heidi, because she is the responsible one) finally got around to telling maintenance that it wasn't working. Yesterday, when I got home, the work slip was hanging on our front door. When I saw that the work had been completed I did a happy dance (not really) but stopped when I saw the reason why the oven hadn't been working. Evidence of Heidi and my ineptitude as cooks was staring me in the face because right there, scribbled in messy manwriting, it said, and I quote, "Temp knob for oven was upside down."
After I showed this to Heidi and we recovered from our hysterical laughter (this happens a lot, like when we have impromptu battles with the inflatable Pirates of the Caribbean swords my sister got us from McDonald's . . . don't hate), we ignored the fact that it was 800 degrees and went to Papa Murphy's to get a pizza. So we could test our fixed oven, you see. I'll have you know that it took the exact 12 minutes to cook and tasted delicious.
Later that night, I was sitting on my bed watching Sex and the City and brushing my teeth. Are you impressed? You should be because I even managed NOT to drool toothpaste spit all over my shirt like I normally do. Heidi came in to use my computer and glanced at the TV. AND NOW I BRING YOU . . . Conversations with my Roommate:
Heidi: What is that?
Me: What?
Heidi: That thing she's holding.
Me: Pot.
Heidi: Oh. From over here it looked like a bag of semen**.
And this was the point I ran into the bathroom so I didn't spray toothpaste ALL OVER MYSELF. And I made it. I dare you not to be impressed now.
*was the name of the SATC episode I was watching
**Yeah, I'm not sure I know what a bag of semen would look like, either. AND I DON'T WANT TO.
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