We're having Ramon Noodles for dinner. A dish I said would never see the light of day ever again, after living on them for two years during college.

Just the thought of Ramon Noodles reminds me of a drunken night coming home from the bar.

We'd been starving and as usual, the cash flow was running at zero dollars, making pizza delivery out of the question. To make matters worse, the RA on duty, was passed out in her room snoring, so getting the keys to the padlocked basement kitchen was a non-option. Lucky for us, we had an illegal hot pot stashed away, along with a lifetime supply of Ramon Noodles.

Now drunk people cooking is really never a good idea, but drunk people trying to operate a hot pot in the girls bathroom suite, even worse. The small confined space only served to amplify our drunken echos down the hall. And of the three of us, none of us should have been trying to operate any sort of machinery.

"Don't get any noodles down the drain." Robin reminded us, sticking her head inside the bathroom door. "We don't need to get yelled at again for clogging up the sinks."

"We got it ... Don't worry." Carrie drawled, waving a utensil in the air. "We can handle it. Can't we girls?"

Tracy and I looked at each other, nodded our agreement and proceeded to dump the noodles into the cooker, as Carrie went back to the room for bowls.

"Give me the spork." I said. "I got to twirl the noodles around and then we can add the powder stuff."

"No," said Tracy, shaking her head. "We gotta dump the water first, strain in, then do the seasoning."

"Oh ... ok." I paused, thinking. "But where we gonna dump it?" I asked, completely perplexed. "Remember what Dennis said ... No more dumping stuff down the drains."

Tracy thought for a moment.

"I know." she said. "We'll dump it into the garbage can ... take that messy clean up."

Giving herself an imaginary high five, she began to pour.

To the two of us, it seemed like the perfect solution, until a thick cloud of steam began to rise from the plastic lined garbage can. Tracy looked at me, a shocked expression on her face.

"Oh my God!" she screamed. "The garbage cans on fire!"

"Aw shit, man!" I panicked. "Dennis is gonna fuckin kill us! He had a hard on about the drains, he's gonna fuckin blow when the whole building goes?"

"Do something!" yelled Tracy, attempting to fan the cloud of hot steam with her hands.

The door opened.

"What the hell are you two idiots doing in here?" Carrie said, walking back into the bathroom. "Jesus. I could hear you from the lobby. You wake up Michelle and we'll really be screwed."

Tracy and I looked at each other.

"The bathrooms on fire," we said in unison.

Carrie looked at us, at the garbage can and back to us again. "Robin! Get in here!" she yelled.

The bathroom door opened as Robin stumbled in, attempting to don her mucklucks. "Noodles ready?"

Carrie shook her head and laughed. "Nope. These two morons seem to think they've set the bathroom on fire."

Robins shoulders shook with laughter. "With what?"

"Water." Carrie answered.