Freshman year was the worst year of my life. One day me and two of my roommates were sitting in my room. I was on my computer; the other two were watching basic channels through static on a TV with rabbit ears.
From the angle I was sitting, I noticed a glow from the kitchen. I poked my head out of the door and calmly said, “Guys, the kitchen is on fire.” Almost too calm. They said, “What!?” and I said “The kitchen’s on fire.” They said “Run!”
So we ran to the kitchen. There was a pan on the stove that was engulfed in flames. For a few seconds we stood there, freaking out, not knowing what to do. I started screaming for salt. “SALT, SALT, WHERE’S THE SALT” as I opened cabinets and closets. I don’t know why I was yelling for salt, but I’m pretty sure I confused it with sand. Then I filled a cup of water and stood there, then remembered water on a grease fire was no bueno. My other roommate ran and got the fire extinguisher. But by that time, the cabinets above the stove were on fire, along with everything around the stove. As soon as he ran back into the kitchen, the sprinklers kicked on. My fearless RA, who was in his room with the door shut, came crawling out on his hands and knees while we stood around the stove. I would later laugh for hours about this.
We ran outside.
Thinking it was another fire alarm, the dorm evacuated slowly. My other roommate, who was in our apartment, came out soaked. He had fallen asleep and we had left him for dead. All the SALT screaming did not wake him.
We sat on the hill facing my dorm (East 4) and watched the water run out of our apartment down the back stairs. I laughed so hard. At that time in my life I found entertainment in the most horrible situations. “This will make a great story.” I thought. Others did not feel the same.
We called LUPD and the fire department. It took them 45 minutes to get there. By that time, our apartment, and the one below it were completely ruined by the water. They made us go, get our stuff, and put it in our cars.
We were all relocated. Everyone stayed together except for me. I was put in a dorm with people I didn’t know with 5 weeks of school left. With all of my belongings in my car, my new RA wrote me up the next day for skipping convocation. We exchanged words.
Later we would find out that it was $26,000 worth in damage. They tried to charge my roommate, but no one knew who started the fire so they couldn’t make him pay. As a memento of that day, I ripped a knob off the stove after they pulled it out of the apartment, and put it on my dashboard. It’s disgusting.
Then me and my girlfriend broke up. Awesome year guys, awesome.