Exploding Microwaves Do NOT, in fact, Give You Super Powers Immediately (originally posted January 20, 2006)

While enjoying a bowl of Whole Foods' Cream of Mushroom Soup, I gazed longingly out the window. Why did I have to go back to work? Why couldn't I stand outside with that man in the dress parading around the south steps of Union Square, instead of looking online for upcoming trade shows? That man in the dress needs a posse, and I'm that posse. As the soup dwindled down, I resumed conversation with Damien, who himself was staringly blankly at his chicken tenders. Confused by the fact that he did not appear delighted by the chicken tendery goodness in front of him, we resumed complaining about our jobs and how we feel so professionally unfulfilled. And then it happened....

WIZZ! ZZZZZZZ! BAM! ZZZZZZ! SNAP! CRACKLE! POP!

Sparks and bright lights emerged from the corner. The smell of burning plastic and cheap fireworks filled the air. What was going on? As the hippie bus boy ran from the corner, I saw it. The microwave was on fire! The Whole Foods Microwave was seething with flames*! Lunch eaters ran or quickly walked away from the area. Cous Cous was left behind, lentil soup was abandoned, and I swear to you that I saw a woman hand her oatmeal cookie to someone on the stairwell, maybe knowing or hoping that the stranger could give that oatmeal cookie a better life. It evoked memories of women handing their babies over to soldiers in order to save their tiny lives. I cried as that defenseless oatmeal cookie disappeared down the stair well. Would it ever see the digestive system of it's original owner? What if the stranger had acid reflux problems? Was an oatmeal cookie suitable for his dietary needs? I was plagued with fear and doubt.

A posse of Whole Foods employees had rushed to the scene at this point. A man with a walkie talkie was radioing for help, or maybe to inform the bakery that the upstairs bakery kiosk was out of scones. A young blonde woman approached the burning pile of microwave hell, while an unidentified heroically carried a fire exstinguisher. A 55 year old busy put out the flames, and the moment had passed. Or had it?

Was it fate that I had been in Whole Foods at the exact moment that pile of food warming mess had shot out radiation? Is it coincidence that I only just started my fan club yesterday? Oh. My. God. In case you don't know where I'm going with this, I'll just lay it out for you: There is a slightly higher than average chance that I have super powers now. I tried moving Damien's orange cream soda can with my eyes and then with forces from my hands, but alas, it didn't work. I'm guessing I won't figure out what my powers are until fate throws me in front of a taxi, along with a young baby and a crippled. I'll either be able to freeze time as to prevent the taxi from hitting us, put up a force field for the same reason, have super human strength AND the ability to fly so I can save said baby and cripple, or I'll be made of steel and be able to use my body as as human shield. I'll let you all know how it works out. My only request is that when they make a t.v. movie about my life story and that fateful day at Whole Foods after I pass away, please have them cast Valerie Bertinelli as me, and Martin Lawrence as Damien. Thank you and have a great weekend.