death by microwave

"Can I put my coffee thermos in the microwave?"

I posed the question to my older and much wiser-in-the-ways-of-appliances sister. We were working together this fine Tuesday morning in the doctor's office where we are both currently employed. In truth, she got me the job. She's worked there for quite a few years manning the front desk and I do medical transcriptions at a computer near hers. I love my job, I was wearing furry boots, and the sun was almost shining. There wasn't an ungodly amount of people in the waiting room and things were going smoothly...but something was dreadfully wrong.

My green tea was cold.

Now our office is freezing. I sit in the corner and the coldness just seeps through right down to my fingertips. Cold fingers when you're job is almost exclusively typing for hours on end is not cool. It's rather cold actually. And something hot to drink makes a world of difference. Therefore, it was imperative that my tea be piping hot for me to perform to my fullest potential.

After Sarah assured me that my thermos would be fine, I walked up the stairs relishing the opportunity to stretch my little legs. Opening the door of the microwave and tapping 40 seconds into the timer, I began to do aerobics. That's what I do while waiting for things in microwaves at work. It makes me feel better about having a desk job. Just when I was beginning to feel like my blood was flowing again, I began to smell something. It wasn't something good either. I wasn't sure, but I had a hunch it was coming from the microwave, and it smelled like something metal was croaking. As I was reaching for the microwave door there came a burst of light from inside and a queer zapping noise. I flung open the door and the kitchen filled with smoke that smelled distinctly of fried coffee thermos. My poor little thermos...the one I stole from dad that has NRA emblazoned on the side. It wasn't dead thankfully, and neither was I even more thankfully, and the building was still standing which was really a plus. Still needing my green tea, I poured the remnant into a coffee cup I found, which I promptly warmed up and walked down the stairs. Little did the people I passed know that there lives were nearly ended prematurely...and I didn't tell them. Instead I sat at my desk and typed medical jargon while sipping tea.

And this is just to prove that nothing is safe in this life: no job, no day, no green tea. And that you shouldn't ask Sarah what is microwave safe or not.