Q: What Killed the Electric Pot? A: Me

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Very few things in the domesticated world excite me like goofy kitchen appliances do. Take, for instance, the Salad Shooter. It’s sort of the culinary equivalent of a flamethrower. Really, what man doesn’t want to own a device that slices up food and literally blasts it out? It’s the closest to hunting that I’ll ever get. Likewise, The Ronco Company is a smorgasbord of cool stuff. They make super knives, the Chop-o—Matic, and a food dehydrator so I could make my own beef jerky. That’s a whole weekend of fun right there.

“What am I doing Saturday?” I’d say, ripping a piece of beef jerky in two with my canines. “Just hanging out in the kitchen. Cutting stuff.”

It would be great. And since I’ve seen the Ronco knife commercial, I wouldn’t simply contain my cutting to food. Pennies, my friend’s wedding ring, the wall between the living room and the bathroom – you name it, I’d cut it. After all of that, exhausted from the tunneling, I would make dinner on my George Foreman Grill. In only a matter of minutes, I’d have a finely cooked steak, and, because I have a bad habit of forgetting to put the little trap down, rivers of blood and lard all over the counter.

Yes, kitchen apparatuses are great. There is a dark side, though, which is that a person needs to have a small amount of intelligence to make these things work. Nothing in this world is moron proof, not even a urinal (ever seen the floor of the men’s bathroom?), and I, on occasion, tend to prove this.

Three weeks ago, I arrived back in Korea after having traveled Europe for around two months. The flight was brutal – 12 hours from Madrid to Qatar, 10 hours in the Qatar airport, and then another 12 hours back to Korea. Upon my return, I took the subway to my girlfriend’s apartment. I was starving and she wasn’t home from work yet. To keep things simple, I bought some ramen noodles from the corner store, punched in the door code, threw my things down, and settled in for a quiet first night back.

Noodles. One would think cooking them would be no problem. Chicken, seafood, Jello, pot brownies, crystal meth – all of these things have a higher difficulty rating than cooking noodles. My girlfriend’s apartment in Seoul is super small; she doesn’t have a stove, but instead a little stovetop burner that plugs into the wall. There it was, and sitting on top of it was a pot. I put water in the pot, turned the burner on, and walked away, waiting for the water to start boiling.

What I failed to notice was that she had placed her electric pot down on top of the burner. If you don’t know what that is, it’s a pot with a thick rubber bottom that plugs into the wall, so it can boil water on its own. In other words, I was supposed to plug the pot in, and not turn the burner on. What I did was sort of like putting burgers in a George Foreman grill, and then taking the Foreman and placing it into a big giant charcoal grill.

In a matter of seconds, it seemed, the apartment was engulfed in thick, toxic rubber smoke. I couldn’t breathe. Melted rubber dripped and oozed out everywhere, coating the portable stovetop. I ran over, coughing heaving, trying my best to stop cooking the electric pot any further. It was done. At the risk of sounding like I’m exaggerating, the apartment really was covered in smoke and it stunk to high hell. I have no idea what it would take to set off the fire alarm in this place; I practically had a reenactment of Waco, Texas going on and still that thing was dead silent.

When my girlfriend got home from work, she found her boyfriend back from his travels and her apartment in a state of chaos. Poison air filled the room, and her electric pot and stovetop were gone.

“Honey, I had a little accident,” I said. “I destroyed two of your appliances cooking noodles.”

I’d forgotten how beautiful she is. That’s what I was thinking as she looked around the place in awe, the same way I’d imagine a person looks at their body after a sex change operation. “What did you do?” she asked.

It felt great to be back. I’d learned so much from traveling, including how much I care about this girl. In the long run, that was important. Killing two nifty kitchen appliances and forgetting how to boil water was, really, just a minor price that needed to be paid.

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57 thoughts on “Q: What Killed the Electric Pot? A: Me

    • Hi Mirta Oliva! Well, nothing much happened. Came back, chilling in Korea, spending time with the woman, seeing where life takes me, maybe move to China next month. What does ‘picayunish’ mean? That can be my word of the day. I’ll be sure to use it at least once at the bar this weekend.

      Thanks for swinging by! Appreciate it!

  1. So have you bought her a nice gift yet to make up for the destruction of her kitchen? Don’t feel too bad. I set the oven on fire a couple of days ago with the baby sitting only 4 feet away. Yay, domesticity.

    • Hi Waiting! I bought her earrings and then it turned out she doesn’t have her ears pierced. It was a total fail. So yeah, gotta make a comeback. No pierced ears? Who can anticipate something like that?

      Glad to hear you’re trying to kill your family! Jk. Wrap Miss C is fireproof blankets, for the love of God!

  2. You do need intelligence to operate certain kitchen appliances—or at least be able to read the instructions they come with to avoid any accidents! :D Is that picture a salad shooter? I’ve never seen / heard of one of those, but my husband most likely would love that appliance! Congrats on being FP!

    • Hi! Yeah, one tough thing about living in a foreign country is that directions are impossible to decipher (unless I learn the language, which might be a good investment). And now that I can’t read directions, I suddenly want to. I find myself staring at shampoo bottles and yearning to know what it says.

      Anyways, yes, that tis a salad shooter. I’ve never actually had one, but it looks awesome. I don’t have it in me to shoot an animal with a bullet, but I can definitely shoot a salad with some chopped up carrot sticks.

      As a divorced person, I have a great interest in things one realizes after marriage, so I’ll be checking you out. Peace!

    • Hola Jessica! Thanks for the kind words. Now let’s sing – “You are not alone/I am here with you/Though we’re far apart/You’re always in my heart.” Wonderful, brilliant song…we can sing a duet as we start a grease fire.

      Thanks for swinging by! Peace girl!

  3. Look at you broadcasting your domestic chaos and it’s gotten you freshly pressed. I hope your girlfriend appreciates the research you had to undertake in order to write this post. Welcome home and congrats.

    • Hi IRunIBreathe! I know, odd, isn’t it? She was happy that I said she’s beautiful in the post. And she is, and I love her, so everything’s pretty good.

      It’s so odd…there are some posts I spend a lot of time on…then I write this in 20 minutes to amuse myself and they press it. I think people who really want to get Freshly Pressed should just write a lot, throw enough stuff at the wall and something will stick. Just a theory.

      Now go run…and breathe. Always good to hear from you. Peace girl!

      • Yes, it does feel pretty arbitrary what gets pressed and what doesn’t. I think your theory is probably pretty sound.
        I like your post and I think your gf should be happy that you said she was beautiful. Now everyone knows.
        How’s the job hunting going?

      • Job hunting blows! Actually, I’ve already accepted a job, working in Beijing, but the process is excruciatingly slow and it’s driving me nuts. It’s taking so long, I’m starting to think I should start trying to look for a better job. I guess I need to chill and grow some patience.

        You’re hot a FP hot streak! I expect to see you up here again sometime next week. : D

  4. I got a salad shooter as a wedding gift. Sadly, it was a regift and didn’t come with instructions, so we could never use it. It did, however, come with the card to the original recipients. Maybe I should have called them to see if they had the instructions.

    I am sorry to hear about the melt-down. I hope she forgave you!

    • Hola! That’s a pretty sweet wedding gift. Almost worth getting married just for that. Regifted, perhaps, but a killer present none-the-less. It would’ve been even more special if the person also gave you a cucumber, separately wrapped.

      Thanks for swinging by! Yes, it took an hour or so but I was forgiven – hallelujah!

  5. Fantastic story telling – you have a gift to bring the reader into the moment. It was freakin hilariuos. When my sweetie does things like this we call them “homer” moments. After dropping and shattering my new olive oil glass dispenser as well as all the oil in it,and I rushed in to see if he was ok and to clean up the big mess. He stepped back as I took over and he said the most romantic thing- You are my Marge to my Homer.

    • Hahaha. Nice line! An olive oil dispenser? You mean…like a bottle? That’s a cool gadget. Anything that dispenses is awesome. My girlfriend has a toothpaste dispenser. It’s wicked. You take the tooth paste tube and stick it, upside down, in this thing, and then you stick your toothbrush inside and, like magic, it puts tooth paste on your brush. Not sure how much easier it makes life, but it’s cool.

      Thank you for sharing that fun little story, Marge! Or Skipper! Are you named after Barbie’s friend? Take care my friend. : )

  6. Oh my how hilarious. Glad the rubber meltdown lead you to truly appreciate the gal in your life. Who knew, right? Congrats on FP and hope you’re back to cooking noodles “old school” soon! I think if you soak the Ramen’s in hot water for like 30 minutes, they eventually turn soft. Hey if all else fails or the appliances are out of commission right? Don’t ask me how I know this…stupid college experiences…uuuh!

    • Sup Grumpa?! She wasn’t mad until I told her that I threw everything out in the garbage area outside her apartment building. Then she made me go get it, but when I went down there it was gone – taken by some sucker. So someplace in Korea, there’s a guy with a melted pot, struggling to wash rubber off his new stovetop burner. Sucks to be him.

      Thanks for stopping by! Peace Grumps!

    • Sup Created – Create It? The juicer is an absolutely brilliant device. In Brussels, they have oranges and juicers in the corner store, so you can make fresh orange juice. I thought that was pretty neat. I’m used to the corner store just having chili dogs…not something healthy. Anyways, you go for that juicer upgrade, maybe get a smoothie maker as well. Really appreciate you swinging by. Merry Christmas!

  7. Hi topicless! As usual, I’m the last one to read your post…hehe… Hilarious post you have there. My theory is your brain is already programmed to do the usual old school stuff…much like an engram since you’ve been used to doing it like forever and then suddenly everything changes..wahaha…welcome to the club! ;)

    • Sup Jep! Yeah, I know what you’re saying. It took me ages to get comfortable defrosting meat in the microwave. I’d always run warm water over it to defrost it, and blasting it and some alternative heat in the microwave grossed me out, especially if one corner got kind of cooked. But, alas, adaptations happen, and now I don’t freak out if I forget to put the chicken out in the morning to thaw. So I’m going to take that as meaning I have entered the club, and it’s a good place to be.

      Love ya Jeps! Take care bloggin’ buddy!

    • Fuckin’ A it does! I like your cursing – not joking either. I have a terrible mouth in real life and it’s a battle to keep all the expletives out of the blog. So it’s always nice to hear an F bomb in the comments. Fuck yeah! Thank you vyvacious!! : D

      • Oh sweeeeeeet. I’m so glad! Most people get offended so I try to curb it in my commenting but it just felt so right!! Haha.

        I come up with interesting curse phrases and one of my good friends just recently said “You know something is wrong when she starts yelling profanities that involves dicks and balls…” :P

        You’re welcome! :D

    • Excellent – if I have in any way contributed to making the work day go by faster, then I feel I have done my good deed for the day. Thanks for the nice comment, Seemarb. Now get back to work and have some coffee before you get fired!

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