Caps Lock’d and loaded
Posted on June 22, 2010
Filed Under Daily, Life With The Boss, Life in L.A. | 22 Comments
Every few weeks, an Asian family sets up a mini grill downstairs, fills it with apple-sized coals, and lights it on fire RIGHT OUTSIDE OUR WINDOW. Apparently, the goal of their monthly ritual is to win the title of First Family on Earth to Cook Fluorescent Pink Chunks of Meat on Sticks With Nothing but Smoke RIGHT OUTSIDE OUR WINDOW.
They’re in the lead.
The method in which they prepare their dinner creates such insane amounts of smoke, it’s only a matter of time before our entire neighborhood is witness to a massive airplane pileup in the sky as control towers at LAX try to guide a dozen pilots around the enormous cloud of dust and ash that rivals even Eyjafjallajokull. Yes, I Googled the spelling.
The smoke is blinding. It’s prickly and thick like molasses covered in dog hair. It raids our apartment with the quickness of salp breeding, and fills your lungs so aggressively you’ll convulse to the ground before you can take the first steps toward the emergency escape route you learned how to plan in elementary school. This ritual cooking usually happens during the day, so while The Boss is at work, I’m left to deal with the lung-blackening effects of SupperTime. But last week, the family did their cooking on a Saturday so The Boss was FINALLY witness to my stories about the family that uses their meal time to help navigate me through when feels like A SLOW DESCENT INTO HELL.
“AHH! The Korean family is doing it again!” I shouted, as I frantically ran to the bathroom to close the windows. “Close the windows in the living room!”
The Boss strolled toward the wall.
“I don’t think they’re Korean,” he said.
“Yes they are! It’s Korean barbecue! PUT THE FAN ON THREEE!”
(Aside: I really want to try Korean barbecue (it’s raved about here in L.A.) but the menu consists mostly of meat entrees, so that dream of mine has now fallen by the wayside).
I could feel the smoke suffocating me as I dragged myself across the carpet by my elbows, inching toward the front door. Crap! I needed a wet towel for my face! I flung my legs to the left, using them like a rudder to steer my way to the kitchen sink. My breath was getting shorter, I was running out of time.
“No, I don’t think so,” he said.
The man I married obviously wasn’t understanding the severity of the situation. Within minutes, our apartment would be filled with smoke, our walls covered in salt-and-pepper colored ash, and if he didn’t close the window NOW! a maintenance man was sure to find our motionless bodies scattered on the floor three days from REMEMBER WHEN YOU DIDN’T CLOSE THE WINDOW.
“GET DOWN!” I shouted. “THE SMOKE!”
“I really don’t think they’re Korean,” he said, moving the blinds to get a better look, WINDOW STILL WIDE OPEN, SMOKE FILLING OUR PRECIOUS ORGANS AND ABODE. “Their facial structure, their cheekbones, even the coloring of their skin…I think they’re Cambodian.”
OH MY GOD WHO CARES CLOSE THE STUPID WINDOW. This was an emergency, the FLASHING NEON BILLBOARD kind, and The Boss was more concerned with the fact that I might have accidentally referred to three strangers as the wrong race? GOD FORBID WE DIE OF SMOKE INHALATION AND GO TO OUR GRAVES THINKING A FAMILY WAS KOREAN WHEN THEY WEREN’T.
I felt a strangling grip on my lungs and my knees buckled. I whispered one final, “Kor…e…an…” as I took my last breath and fell to the floor. Then, in an event no short of miraculous, I heard the window close, and I was able to breathe again. I was alive. The Boss raised the setting on the fan, closed the blinds, turned around and goes, “Why are you on the floor?”
You’re lucky we made it this time, SLOW WINDOW CLOSER. Next month, we might not be so lucky.
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22 Responses to “Caps Lock’d and loaded”
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hahahahahahaha. the boss will never understand.
‘GOD FORBID WE DIE OF SMOKE INHALATION AND GO TO OUR GRAVES THINKING A FAMILY WAS KOREAN WHEN THEY WEREN’T.’
Oh God, so funny. Can you die of tongue-inhalation?
I would do the Boss-thing. Except I wouldn’t know the difference between a Cambodian and a Korean.
Great, this whole time I thought it was spelt Eyjafjalajokull, instead of Eyjafjallajokull. How embarassing.
Haha out of the entire post, this made me laugh the most:
“PUT THE FAN ON THREEE!”
hahahah “the flashing neon billboard king” you are TOO funny. And the Boss is one cool guy because he puts up with your craziness
the floor???? Really????
hahahah SLOW WINDOW CLOSER…
… btw I love barbecue food!
That was SO funny!! hahahahaha
Calm down Hindi… oh, i mean Paki LOL!!!!
nothing funny about this at ALL.. nothing.. what a crowd of followers you have. its quite insulting because what does one point have to do with the other in this writing. NOTHING…:( ” Put the fan on three”??? funny, really FUNNY.. what is wrong with me?
By far the funniest post on your blog, like, ever. Was cracking up. Now my kids think i’m nuts. Thanks a lot, Sabrina
@melissa, racist much? And nothing in second your comment makes sense either.
LOVED the post sabrina! Especially ‘GOD FORBID WE DIE OF SMOKE INHALATION AND GO TO OUR GRAVES THINKING A FAMILY WAS KOREAN WHEN THEY WEREN’T.’ LMAOOOOO keep it up
LOL. We love the Boss. May he “balance” you thru life……p.s. I would love to have some of the Korean barbeque right now.
Ha, “put the fan on threeee” is going to be my new catchphrase at home now…but not because of smoke, because it’s 95 degrees out.
Anyway, your apartment doesn’t have a smoke alarm? I’m all for being neighborly but I’d tell these guys to get lost before I find my Supersoaker!
This reminds me of dorm living and how I don’t miss sharing smells and sounds.
Mellisa seems like a troll… by the way this post was hilarios
*hilarious
I’ve been reading your posts for quite a while now and i have to say you are sooooooooooo funny! LIke you crack me up soooo much
!! my parents think i’m crazy when i laugh like a witch who’s about to have a crap.. it’s just crazy maaan 
i just want to say there’s a lot of love back here in england for you 
Love ya!
X
Tayba: how does the poster Melissa’s dislike of the latest post make her “Racist”? Kinda out of left field there arent you…
I am picturing you being approached by Hollywood bigs, and being asked to put together a sitcom proposal. All would go well (because you are hysterically funny) until the tinkeringstarted.
Who would you want to portray you and The Boss, and who would Hollywood go with?
farrah: My guess is that it was her using the term “Paki” in the comment above that. Also, “Hindi”, which… well, clearly Melissa doesn’t know the difference between a language and a racial slur.
I’m totally like The Boss in this… I can see myself, peering through the smoke, muttering, “You know, maybe Laotian? And truth be told, I’ve never met anyone from Burma, so….”
“OH MY GOD WHO CARES CLOSE THE STUPID WINDOW”
Hahahahahahahahahahah this was definetely your best post yet, especially since i can relate to it soo much! it’s so comforting to know that someone other than I can’t tell the difference between asians