API! API! API!

I refuse to did not see myself as a drama queen, much to the objection of my close friends…I often thought my other friend would be aptly named as a drama queen instead of me…

Let me just describe this dear friend of mine as Ipoh born and bred…

*waive at her* then *run*

May be this event cemented the title onto my name…Just for the record, this emergency-worthy incident took place years ago when I was a student, renting with some other very dear dear friends.

This other friend of mine is very meticulous. Suffice to say, she even iron…erm…her T-shirt.

So, there she was, routinely ironed her tudung. The rest of us went about doing our own thing around the house…I think, altogether, there were five of us. I was, I think, sitting on the floor, quite close to where she was ironing, reading, I think.

Then, suddenly, the IRON CAUGHT FIRE. It caught fire at the connection between the iron’s body and the wire. She let out a small cry (not dramatic at all this friend of mine…more logical and practical). With a house as big as a chicken coop, her faint cry caught our attention.

At the speed of light, I stood up, faced the burning iron, flapped my hand like a chicken, and loudly yelled “API! API! API! API! API! AAAA! API! API! API!”

Needless to say, after I lost my breath yelling for help like a damsel in distress, the atmosphere became calm and quiet. All eyes were on me. Another more collected and calm friend just poured a glass, yes, just a glass of water onto the burning iron and the fire ceased. On the other hand, my logical and practical friend, still standing at the same spot, was seen dabbing her slightly burnt hand, and obviously was taken aback at my method of looking for help.

I blurted out: “Aaa…nasib baik…dah…padam.”

My other less sympathetic friend said: “Ko ni kenapa? Tak pasal pasal satu blok ni belari kuar kang…”

It didn’t stop there… “Ko punya jerit…memang macam satu blok nilah dah tebakar…”

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