Don’t Do This Anywhere Ever (revised)

I, a newlywed, alone in our 2nd floor apartment one afternoon, felt adventurous (though sadly uninformed) and domestic. Catfish couldn’t be that too hard to prepare…right?
Pan on burner, add fish, a bit of oil, heat, all set.
In no time, a sea of smoke rose up in a dancing swirl. In a second flash, flames engulfed my fish and spread through out the pan.
I did not know about grease fires.
I did not know to cover it.
I doused it with water.
I was a DORK!
The flames grew.
I panicked, rushed the blazing pan to our bathtub where it would have more room to be a fire while I continued to freak. Flames licked up a foot over my head (the currently useless mass attached atop my kneeling form), casting an ominous glow on yellow tile, and nearly attached themselves to a plastic curtain decorated with unsuspecting, chillin’ on lily pad frogs.
There was no audible chorus of angels but I know they were there, rummaging through my mental attic praying for a helpful shred of information to hurl at my frantic thoughts on the off chance I’d notice and (please!) pay attention.
And lo! A little voice, the one that heard Mr. Fireman when he came to my elementary school 15 years earlier, suggested that covering the flames was my only hope. What did I covered it with? No idea.
Fire out, safe and alive, I was a quivering puddle of cold sweat sharing space with a thunderously loud, racing heart.
I felt like an idiot.
I would not be using stainless steel frying pans EVER AGAIN!
This moment is so embarrassing I have only told a few people, maybe only my husband. Now I’m telling you.
Years later, I asked a friend, an older woman we liked to visit, how to cook fish. She didn’t even know how to word such an obvious answer. Pan, medium heat, oil or water, cover, let it cook all the way through, put on plate.
I see where I went wrong. I liked high heat…cooks left overs faster you know? I’ve become acquainted with lids as well.
Thank you for listening…