One way to meet the neighbors

Last night my attempt to broil up some omega-3 rich Dover sole for dinner caused an inadvertent test of the smoke alarms in our new apartment. Not just the one in the kitchen - all 5 in our apartment.*

So we did what people quickly going both insane and deaf naturally do: run around the house flinging open doors and windows while trying to keep our ears covered and get the alarms to stop shrieking at us.

We looked up from the melee at one point to see that we had company: there was a stranger standing in our kitchen, having come through the back door.

"Everything alright?" he asked casually.

"No fire, just a dirty broiler," I explained.

"Ah, yeah. I just wanted to make sure we weren't burning down."

"I'm Ellie," I said, after a pause.

"Oh, I'm Brian, I live upstairs with my roommate Nate."

Eric came and introduced himself and they made neighborly chit chat about the girls who live on the first floor and how long Brian and Nate have lived here. At this point the fish, snap peas and garlic bread, all of which I had timed perfectly to be ready at the same exact moment, were all ready.

No one likes their Dover sole cold, least of all me, so I plated it up, we bid farewell to Brian and promised to avoid making such a racket again soon.

We didn't mention that we are expecting a boy shrieking machine at the end of March. Mental note: keep the back door locked.


*Yes, 5 smoke alarms. It's big, but it's not that big. Here's to extreme caution.