About last night

Last night I learned a few things...

I learned that I'm not savvy enough to wield a wok.

I learned that overheating your wok can produce humongous plumes of smoke.

I learned that in the face of humongous plumes of smoke, I tend to lose a sense of logic.

I learned that when your wok is pluming pluming smoke, the best course of action is probably to remove it from its heat source.

I learned that opening the back door of your apartment instead will do nothing to alleviate the problem and will, in fact, make it worse by setting off the building's fire alarms.

I learned that hearing the building's fire alarms will cause your neighbors to believe there is a fire in the building.

I learned that telling your neighbors there is no fire is probably more important than holding a fan pointed at the open window in your kitchen.

I learned that in the time you fail to inform your neighbors there is no emergency, they will go ahead and call 911.

I learned that the St. Paul fire department is very speedy.

I learned that a call of this magnitude will garner not one, not two, but three large fire trucks to arrive on your tiny street.

I learned that fireman do not enjoy being interrupted when they are talking into their radios.

I learned that the firefighters will insist on coming up to your apartment to make sure everything is OK, no matter how much you assure them it is.

I learned that a good way to enhance your embarrassment in this situation is to have glasses of wine sitting out when the fireman comes into your kitchen.

I learned that in the environment of mass panic, the word "wok" sounds exceptionally ridiculous, particularly between two firemen.

I learned that none of this is remotely cute or funny.

I learned that having fire trucks on the street causes neighbors from the entire street to emerge in curiosity.

I learned that it takes more time for the trucks to move from your street than it did for them to arrive in the first place.

And last, I learned that there is no amount of apologizing that can make you feel better about the mass disruption you've just caused or un-earn your new title as Worst Neighbor.

Think I should make everyone some cookies? Or does that seem like a pretty risky apology, given my history in the kitchen?

And that's why the doctor told me I would never wok again.