Tuesday, October 25, 2005

Channeling Sylvia

My roommate's solution to our apartment's lack of heat is to turn on our oven and open the door. If we had an electric oven, I'd be okay with that. But we have a GAS oven. And all our windows are closed because it's cold outside. So I came home from work last night to find our place reeking of gas. My roommate and her boyfriend were happily camped out on the skanky couch, reading and eating dinner.

When I opened the door and got a whiff, I half expected to walk around the corner and find bodies, both human and feline, splayed lifeless on the floor. I'd already started to reach for my cell phone when I saw them on the couch.

The real kicker is that they decided to go back to her boyfriend's house for the night because he has heat, so I got stuck with the gassy apartment. Which of course became icy cold after I turned the oven off. Gah.

2 comments:

PomHeart said...

just so long as she didn't decide that now would be a good time for a cheery fire...

digiphile said...

Whoa. Seriously f'ed up behavior.

Would I rather be cold, maybe blow myself (along with many innocent other beings, notably a cute cat) or....

PUT ON A SWEATER.

She's wicked smaht.

Seriously, these small, portable space heaters are a whole new generation. I have a ceramic one that kicks much ass, and my bud Eric uses an oil filled version for his shop.

Either work on electric current, both are energy efficient, and neither is a significant fire risk unless someone, you know, puts flammable objects on top of it.

Sounds like that is a risk in your gassy apartment.

Dude, stop feeding it beans.