So, today I almost burnt down the flat . .

A true story.

I’m in halls of residence at the moment, and while I have my own room, I share a kitchen with seven other people, it’s self catering so we have to do all our own cooking.
This week is reading week and I don’t have any lectures, although I do have lots of work to do.

This morning I awoke to the sound of seagulls screeching and sunlight streaming through the thin university provided curtains. I looked at my watch and seeing the time was only about 9.30, decided this was far too early and went back to sleep.

A couple of hours of sleep and a shower later I was cooking some toast under the grill of the electric cooker, after applying liberal lashings of marmalade I ate them, and picked up a copy of the student magazine to read.
Time passed . . I’m not sure how long. I noticed a vague burning smell, although I was so absorbed in the article I was reading I ignored it. More time passed, again I noticed a burning smell. I turned around and noticed. The whole kitchen was full of smoke - I could hardly see the other end of the room.


I opened the grill, expecting flames to pour out towards me I was lucky, there was only more smoke. I turned off the grill ,and the electric cooker at the wall, turned on the ventilating fan and opened all the windows.

As I opened the windows I noticed a fire engine parked outside - initially I thought I must have set off an alarm and not noticed . . I listened but my ear drums were not being assaulted by the loud ringing of the alarm, I looked again and noticed the fire engine was in front of someone else’s halls. not mine.

10 mins later the kitchen was clear, but the cooker appear smoke damaged and there is little black specks of something on most of the surfaces.

A lucky escape, I think, for a fool


Gartog, you’re not a fool. Just human.

FWIW I too had Apt. fires. Yup two of them within 18 months of each other.

The first one I lost everything including my long loved cat Monster. It was caused by a fan that had been left running in a window, and caught a curtin. I never went back to the little place although I hear tell the melted TV still worked.
The second was just in the attic of the building. Nothing was damaged in any of the units and the landlord was kind enough to give us all back a months rent to put a deposit on a new place. (Bill you rock)

Get ya some Tri-sodium-phospate (Called TSP) clean up and be thankfull nothing worse happened. Stop kicking yourself over it. Shit Happens! Though I should say I wouldn’t trust the flavour of anything that came out of that toaster. If you’re feeling extremely guilty, buy a new one to replace it.

<points and laffs at Gartog>

Nah, just kidding!

I had a similar incident that’s scarred me for life, at least emotionally and stuff.

Late one night in my apartment, I decided to bake cookies. So I took the mix, put nice glops of dough onto the cookie sheet, and put two sheets into the oven.

The instructions said to bake them for 9-12 minutes, so I figured 10 or so would be a good time to check on them.

So I’m sitting down in the next room, and I hear a few beeps. “Eh? Odd,” I said, then I heard some clicks. I go to the kitchen, and there’s smoke pouring from the stove’s top!

Zoinks! So I turn off the oven, and flick the fan on. Two seconds later, the loudest alarm in the recorded history of mankind erupts out of nowhere. I ran over to the window and opened it, and a few moments later, the smoke dissipated.


Oops, it wasn’t done yet! More was coming out of the oven! The alarm goes off again!

Thinking quickly, I get it into my head that the alarm Must Be Stopped. I recall that the smoke alarms back home were battery operated; therefore, all I needed to do was remove the batter, and voila! Silence.

The alarm’s on the (low) ceiling. I can’t see where the battery is. I jump up and smack it once. It doesn’t stop. Shoot! I think. I smack it again, again, again. No stoppo.

Then I get the most brilliant idea of all. I’ll rip it down.

So I rip it down.

Turns out it was hard wired. The entire alarm comes crashing down. Sparks shower me. I’m frozen in time, jaw unhinged, disbelieving.

And then, silence. And darkness, as I’ve blown out half the apartment.

I called maintenance, and they came over right away. “I think I know what the problem is,” says I. “Yeah, I think the alarm’s shot.” :slight_smile:

They patched it up, and all was well.

But damn, now I’m gunshy of the oven, which betrayed me!
So see, you’re no fool. More like a jester. . .

Thanks. I think.

And thanks for sharing your stories. We actually have a cleaner for the kitchen (thank god) and they have just arrived . . . .‘so’ she said ‘have you had a fire?’.
‘Um’ I replied ‘not really’.

TelcontarStorm two in eighteen months! I can top that, one of my flatmates tokd me he had flames coming out of the grill saturday night . . . although he noticed straight away, so there was no damage.

I had already cleaned a lot up, soI think between us we will be ale to use the kitchen again soon :slight_smile:

Anymore stories anybody wants to share? Oh and dantheman I hope your able to bake cookies again soon.

Soon? Hell that was almost two years ago.

I love my microwave.

You can’t bake cookies in a microwave. Surely?

No, no, not cookies. But just about anything else!