They disabled the microwaves during the filming, so effectively it’s just a turntable in a box.
That’s what I figured.
I use a toaster oven with a window.
But more to the point: pick a foreign language you’d like to learn, and every day while you’re impatiently waiting for your toast, learn one or two vocabulary words. You’re welcome. 
It seems to me that the problem here isn’t toasting technology, but the OP’s ability to be patient. Take this as a lesson every morning.
Patience can be very hard to learn.
I discovered I like cold toast sometimes, if it has been well toasted. You spread butter on it and the butter doesn’t melt, and unmelted butter is its own thing, and quite pleasurable. You can also spread it on melba toast if you can’t wait.
Damn right.
Goes great with peanut butter.
I am ambivalent on butter.
But for perfect toast you need to have home-made fresh sourdough bread. No finer food.
I’d recommend Marmite and a couple of soft boiled eggs as the accompaniment. Perhaps some pepper and salt.
Can’t believe this hasn’t been posted yet.
I like double-thick fluffy white Japanese bread, toasted and buttered. I could make a whole dinner out of it.
I’m toying with the idea of getting a toaster oven so that I can make even better toasted Japanese bread. If I only had space on the counter.
The older the better.
I too find the OP’s dilemma mystifying. It appears that the OP’s ideal toast complexion falls within the toaster’s knob range (with slight variation depending on type of bread). The obvious solution is to find the ideal setting for that perfect level of brownness and leave it there. Then just use self-control and wait for the inevitable (and often frightening) POP-UP! Easy peasy.
I, on the other hand, have a true toaster dilemma. You see, I like my toast black (no doubt some form of pica). Black as the ace of spades. But not black to the point of borderline carbon dust. I have a minuscule window within which to find my perfect level of toasty doneness.
Fine and dandy you say. Just find the ideal toaster knob setting that results in black, but not too black and leave the knob on that setting for eternity, or at least till the cows come home.
Well, guess what? You guessed it! My toaster knob doesn’t go high enough to toast my bread black. Not a little black. Not a lot black. No black at all! At the highest knob setting, my toast only reaches a complexion of dark brown. That is unacceptable. It would be exactly like ordering a medium-rare Kobe steak at a fine restaurant and being served a lima bean.
My only solution (short of hari kari) is to push my pre-black toast back down into the gaping maw of the toaster and give it a second cycle. But, whoa Nelly!, if I give it a complete second cycle, my toast will turn to potentially carcinogenic carbon dust. That’s almost as bad as dark brown for crying out loud!
So, I have to fiddle around with the knob and simply guesstimate where to set it for the all-important second cycle. Well guess what? You guessed it: the numbers and markers on my toaster knob rubbed off long ago (I blame it on the cat). I’m flying blind without a parachute carrying an iron anvil.
That, friends and foes, is a true toaster dilemma.
Every once in a while, after going through a loaf or two, I get toast that’s the perfect shade of black. Huzzah! But, by then it’s lunchtime and I don’t eat toast for lunch.
You are the cat!
I’m also a premature toast popper – not so early that I have to re-toast it, though.
But my true impatience comes when I’m making pasta. I swear I try eating a piece every 45 seconds or so to check whether it’s done (hint: it’s not).
“It’s a white hole, spilling time …”
(reference to a Red Dwarf episode featuring Talkie Toaster)
I bake and slice my own bread. It’s different every time, since I throw in whatever suits my fancy as I’m making the sponge - whole wheat, teff, rice flour, powdered milk, honey, gluten flour, etc. — I’m not aiming for an identical loaf each time, just something good to eat.
And I sure as hell can’t slice every piece to an identical thickness. I’m lucky if one slice is perfectly even, as opposed to thicker on one side than the other.
So each use of the toaster is different. There is no one magic setting that could produce ideal toast every time.
If you have the counter-top space you could always get TWO toasters. The first for stage one, and the second to char the bread to your liking. 
And we buy lots of kinds of bread, and many of them don’t come sliced. So i, too, need to keep an eye on my toast and can’t just learn the right toaster setting.
Fortunately, i like a fairly wide range of doneness, so long as it’s dark enough. And if there’s a little char, I’ll just scrape it off.
(I don’t understand pale toast. But there obviously a market for it.)
I like sandwiches with the outside toasted, but the interior surface not toasted. So I put two pieces of bread in the toaster oven, one on top of the other.
If you slice your toast with a lightsaber it comes out already toasted, my little padawan. You have to practise the right cutting speed to get the desired doneness.