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This afternoon I walked into my local Japanese market to check for anime figurines when I noticed that a microwave contained a small but enthusiastically flaming container.
My first reaction, as is common with me in such situations, was to wonder whether this was actually intended. My second was to try to get the attention of a checkout clerk. This failed, possibly because I spoke quietly in the desire to not shout "fire!" in a mildly crowded market.
I then hit what I surmised was the "off" button. The microwave shut off. The container burned even more enthusiastically. I tried to get the attention of another employee, failed, then grabbed the arm of a closer one and pointed, saying, "HEY! The microwave's on fire!" He looked, then took off, presumably in search of help and/or a fire extinguisher.
Then two customers, to whom the flaming rice bowl belonged, opened the door and tried to blow it out. I helped them. The employee returned and helped them. Finally, it went out. Flakes of charred styrofoam floated about, and the repulsive chemical stench of burnt styrofoam permeated the air.
"You shouldn't put styrofoam in a microwave," said the employee.
"It says, 'place container in microwave,'" protested the customer.
Realizing that no one seemed inclined to, say, offer me a free anime figurine for sounding the alarm, I left them to their argument over the charred-- yet still largely frozen-- bowl of theoretically microwaveable teriyaki chicken and rice.
My first reaction, as is common with me in such situations, was to wonder whether this was actually intended. My second was to try to get the attention of a checkout clerk. This failed, possibly because I spoke quietly in the desire to not shout "fire!" in a mildly crowded market.
I then hit what I surmised was the "off" button. The microwave shut off. The container burned even more enthusiastically. I tried to get the attention of another employee, failed, then grabbed the arm of a closer one and pointed, saying, "HEY! The microwave's on fire!" He looked, then took off, presumably in search of help and/or a fire extinguisher.
Then two customers, to whom the flaming rice bowl belonged, opened the door and tried to blow it out. I helped them. The employee returned and helped them. Finally, it went out. Flakes of charred styrofoam floated about, and the repulsive chemical stench of burnt styrofoam permeated the air.
"You shouldn't put styrofoam in a microwave," said the employee.
"It says, 'place container in microwave,'" protested the customer.
Realizing that no one seemed inclined to, say, offer me a free anime figurine for sounding the alarm, I left them to their argument over the charred-- yet still largely frozen-- bowl of theoretically microwaveable teriyaki chicken and rice.
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