The odor came floating into my office like a fog. It was rancid, putrid, like something was decomposing. Decomposing and now burning.
I walked out into the hallway to have a look around. Maybe something had caught fire. We had fire marshals for that, Steve in marketing a floor above me was supposed to don a high-vis vest, blow a whistle and herd us to the nearest approved exit like a corporate border collie.
I didn’t see Steve, but I did smell something rotting and on fire. I walked down the hall toward the break room. An office door slammed and I heard Stacey yell in exasperation.
“Whatever it is would somebody clean it up, or put it out? I’m on a call for crying out loud.”
The stench was close to unbearable as I approached the break room. In the old days when we wore ties, I would have used the accessory to cover my mouth and nose, maybe even my eyes given how they were watering.
I turned the corner and stepped into the break room and saw Wilson and one of the guys from the facilities staff, Eddie I think. They were standing in front of the microwave, talking and motioning like nothing was wrong.
“What the hell is that smell?” I asked.
Something crackled and popped in the microwave.
“What smell?” Wilson asked.
Eddie was too preoccupied with his phone to bother answering.
“Look,” Eddie said, showing Wilson the phone. “Like in this YouTube video, the guy has the cover still on the phone. See?”
My brain worked to process what I was hearing, seeing and smelling. It was like asking a car to go from a standstill to eighty in four seconds. I was having trouble getting out of park with all this.
There was a loud noise, a kind of zzzzzzztttt and more crackling coming from the microwave.
“Is…your phone in the microwave?” I asked.
I expected Wilson would chuckle and say, “Don’t be silly.”
That’s not what he said.
“Don’t worry, the mic is on low power, and it’s just in for a few more seconds,” he said.
He spoke it with the nonchalance of someone who routinely puts a phone in the microwave.
“I really don’t think it’s a good idea to–“ I started to say, but the microwave beeped and Wilson yanked open the door.
A cloud of white smoke billowed out, followed by a murky gray cloud. He and Eddie waved the smoke away like it was a minor inconvenience, and peered inside the appliance.
I coughed and felt my nostrils burning. It was the kind of burning that makes you believe the smell will stay with you for a long time, maybe even to the grave.
“You got to be kidding me,” Wilson, said using a towel to take his phone out. “The screen is still cracked.”
“See,” Eddie said, “I told you, the YouTube guy has the cover on the phone. It makes a difference.”
Wilson reached inside the microwave and took out a coffee mug. On the side the name “Marc” was displayed in big, splashy letters. I wasn’t aware of any Marc on this floor, which was just as well given the bubbling orange liquid inside his mug.
“I think maybe we need more baking soda,” Eddie said, staring at the liquid.
“Baking soda?” Wilson asked. “We’re supposed to put baking powder in, not baking soda.”
“Same thing, right?” Eddie asked.
“Kind of, but no,” Wilson said. “We got to follow exactly what he does in video.”
I steadied myself using the countertop to offset the dizziness I was experiencing. “What exactly are you doing?” I asked.
“The screen on my phone cracked,” Wilson said. “Instead of paying big money to have it fixed or replaced I found this great life hack video.”
“And that includes frying it in the microwave?” I asked.
“You just mix some baking powder, milk and peanut butter. Get it good and hot and the steam and smoke from the mixture forms some kind of restorative property for the type of glass used in smartphones. The guy says so right in the video.”
I reminded myself that Wilson had a graduate degree. Never again would I let education levels impress me when I screened prospective new hires.
“Look,” Eddie said, “I found another video of a guy using his gas grill instead.”
“Little problem,” Wilson said.
Maybe he was coming to his senses, I thought.
“We don’t have a gas grill here in this high-rise office tower. Go back to the video with the microwave.”
Or maybe not.
“Ohhhh, here you go,” Eddie said. “Here’s the problem. You’re supposed to put the mic on power setting number one, not low power. And then let if got for between five and fifteen minutes,” he said.
“Makes sense,” Wilson said.
“No…no, it doesn’t,” I said.
“The liquids and gases need that time to build and blanket the screen probably,” Wilson said.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Eddie said.
The hustled to concoct another mug of the mixture and I made a mental note to throw Marc’s cup out later. He would thank me.
They were talking and working and very busy, and I started for the door of the break room just as they slammed the door of the microwave shut and punched the keypad. I needed to get out of here, then get out of the building.
I heard the whirling behind me and it took just seconds for the crackling and popping to start again. It was like someone had crammed a summertime electrical storm into a little box. There was a sizzling and I looked back to see smoke seeping out from around the door.
Wilson and Eddie coughed and turned to leave just as it exploded, blowing the door off and unleashing a sideways mushroom cloud that rolled toward us.
“Get out, get out,’ Eddie yelled, pushing past us.
“My phone,” Wilson said. “Must. Save. Phone.”
I was growing faint, and my legs weren’t moving. It was like the gas was attacking my nervous system.
The lights went off. I head Stacey yelling down the darkened hall.
“I lost my f-ing call. What idiot–“ she was cut off my her own coughing.
Somewhere far off I heard a whistle sounding. Steve was on his way. He’d save us.