At 9:12 p.m., after devouring a Foreman grilled steak and microwaved can of corn, Morris found no room to jam his plate into a sink already full of cutlery chaos. The dishes were piling up and he had to do something. Something as drastic, life-threatening, and utterly unimpressive as emptying the dishwasher.
In 1956, only four percent of homes had dishwashers.
Morris said, "I just wanted to get it done and well, I concluded that if I moved quickly and put things away faster, it would take less time. Neat concept, right? Kind of like pulling a band-aid off quickly is easier than pealing it away, hair by painful hair."
Morris ripped his Band-Aid with the speed of a sprinter and didn't break anything, displaying the grace of a dancer he's never been confused for. "I was moving fast," he said, "like that Usain Bolt fella and moving like one those people on Dancing With The Stars; one of the ones that isn't like Buzz Aldrin of course."
One way to pre-rinse your plates.
Morris unhinged the dishwasher door and dove right in, ignoring the blast of steam in his face. He wasn't going to be stopped, even when hot cycle temps reach 160 degrees F. 2nd-degree burns be damned.
In the blink of an eye, plates, cups, and bowls were evacuated to their cabinet shelves. Morris considered throwing the plates like frisbees, but didn't want to make the jump from amateur to all-madden too soon. That, and square plates with dried ketchup, because he doesn't pre-wash, don't fly well.
Awwww, so cute!
Next, he grabbed handfuls of utensils, some of which weren't handle side up. He learned that skin and serrated knife blades don't mix. Sure, he got blood on some formerly clean forks, spoons, and his one spork from the Maryland House's Roy Rogers, but you also don't stop Baryshnikov to tell him his split-sole ballet shoe is untied either.
At 9:15 his performance began. 1 minute, 48 seconds later the dishwasher door was closed and a man celebrated his fastest dishwasher emptying ever in a blog.