Don’t ever fry chicken when you meal prepped… 


So tonight the Saints play the Falcons on Monday Night Football. I’m a Saints fan and this game is probably one of the biggest games of the season! 

With that being said, you have to eat buffalo wings and French fries when you watch football. 

So I decided I would fry from chicken tenders and make a buffalo sauce. I season my chicken and prep the Buffalo sauce. I even get an egg and milk and mustard so the batter sticks to the chicken. 

All is going good until… I see something orange under the pot. I thought it was the burner. I had the stove on #4 heat and no grease had splattered. So I was confused. I move the pot and flames appear. Not like a tiny flame, but I swear I could hear it go WHOOSH! 

I put the pot on another burner, cut the stove off, run to my room to put on pants, grab my charger, phone and purse. As I’m flying downstairs, I’m calling 911. 

If you know me, you know that I stutter when I’m excited. She has to tell me to slow down and to repeat my address. I do and she informs me the Fire Department is on the way. 

At this point, I’m panicking. I call my mama. Of course she doesn’t answer. So I text her “Fire.” Then she calls me.  And I tell her what’s going on. Not sure what she could do all the way in Louisiana but I just felt better calling my mama. 

By now, I’m pretty sure my apartment is on fire. I start to bang on my neighbor’s doors to tell them to evacuate. Nobody answers. 

One of my neighbors in another building hears me talking about a fire. So he comes and asks if I need help. I’m out of breath trying to tell him the apartment number. 

Then he asks, “you got any flour? I can put it out. Let’s go check it out.” 

This is why white people die in scary movies. Why would you go into a building with a grease fire trying to put it out with flour?

Reluctantly, I follow him upstairs. I let him go first in case the flames spread. He opens the door and it’s no fire. THANK GOD! The fire put itself out I guess.. 

I could hear the sirens but the Fire Department still wasn’t at my apartment yet. I call 911 to inform them that the fire is out. And I get put on hold. Something about all dispatchers are busy helping others. Thank God I didn’t need them because I’d be pissed if I was kidnapped, being robbed or actually had a fire. 

The fire trucks, yes trucks – they sent two, arrive. The nice men come up and check everything out. They open all the blinds and bring this fan up to clear the smoke. 


They said everything was fine and left. Just like that… 

Lesson learned: never fry chicken when you should be eating your meal preps!

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